Fish out of Water
by Sassysazzles
Summary: Modern!AU Captain Swan. Hiding from her past, Emma finds a job working for a simple Fishmonger in a small town in Maine. Running away leads Emma to right where she belongs…even if it's a little fishy.
1. Chapter 1

The town in Maine was small. Quite. Right on the water, and exactly what Emma needed. The bus had dropped her in a larger town a while back, and she had hiked or hitch hiked her way to the small town. But she was tired, and hopefully she had zigged and zagged enough times to not leave a trail. She wouldn't be found here.

Tucking her hands into her hoodie pockets, she set down Main Street. The rumble in her stomach reminded her that she needed to eat. And in order to eat, she needed a job. A few people gave her cautious smiles as they passed her on the street. Friendly, but cautious. This was not a town that ever really had strangers. Too small and too far away for tourism…it was isolated and caught in time.

Passing the bakery, the smells wafted out and Emma groaned again. She was famished. Settling in her resolve, she kept walking. Passing a library, the mayor's office, a small diner…. these were all cute buildings, but she needed a job off the beaten path. Just in case. Turning down an alley and heading for the docks, she inhaled the salty air. Always having a love for the sea, she was glad to reacquaint herself with it.

Throwing her duffle on a bench, she plopped down, and let out a deep breath. _You are safe here. You will be safe here._ Her mantra was of little comfort this time, and she picked at the threads of her fingerless gloves, gazing out at the horizon. The sun was setting behind her, and the sky was turning dusty. Huffing out another sigh, she turned and took a look at the businesses that lined the docks. A small store with a simple wooden fish as a sign was on the corner of the little row of buildings, and Emma could see a "Help Wanted" sign in the window. Perfect.

Hauling her bag back over her shoulder, and straightening out her attire as best as you could when you're wearing a hoodie, she marched her booted feet over to the small fish market, and the bell above the door rang as she entered, announcing her.

There was no one in here. A few glass cases displayed neat rows of fish of all types, and small shelving on the opposite wall held a variety of seasonings, herbs, and tools, of the seafood variety. "Hello?" Emma called out hesitantly.

"I'll be just a minute lass!" said a voice from seemingly nowhere, and Emma looked around to see if there was anyone standing around.

"I'm just trying to fix this blasted case….just give me one….second…" rang the smooth English voice through gritted teeth. A few curses, and a couple of loud bangings and clatterings later, a mop of dark hair appeared over the top of the display case.

"Well hello there!" the man exclaimed, and Emma couldn't help but smile at him. "Welcome to Jones Fish House, what can I do for a lovely lady, such as yourself?" The man was charismatic, and Emma was taken aback by his piecing blue eyes. "I…uh…I saw you were hiring. Or I hope you still are?"

"What?" asked the man, with a confused look on his face.

Emma pointed to the sign in the corner window. "You have a Help Wanted sign on your window. "

The man's eyes saddened a bit, and he came from behind the counter to walk to the window to remove the sign. "That's a mistake actually love. Sorry about that."

Emma's heart dropped. Of course it wasn't that easy. "Wait please, I really need a job. I can clean, lift, work hard…whatever you need."

The man took pause, and turned around to look at her. His sad blue eyes locked with her hope filled green ones. "Please…" she asked softly. The man looked to the floor, and then back to her. "Bloody hell…" he mumbled, and Emma did a little tilt up onto the balls of her feet, trying to contain a smile. He cocked his eyebrow at her.

"Any experience with fish?" he asked.

"I saw _Splash_ once. " she countered, smiling at him.

"Like the ocean?"

"Try love it."

"I can't pay you much."

"It'll be enough."

"It's harder work than it looks."

"Good."

"Can you start tomorrow?"

"What time do you need me here?"

The man held out his hand. "Killian Jones," he introduced himself, "and you can be here at 6 a.m." Emma beamed at him, and locked hands with him in a firm handshake. "Emma Swan, and I'll be here at 5:55!"


	2. Chapter 2

Emma did not arrive at "Jones Fish House" at 5:55 am. In fact, she never left. Waiting for Killian to leave for the evening, and hiding in the shadows, she snuck to the back door a few minutes after he left, and picked the lock of the door, letting her in. The faint smell of fish wafted through the open door, as she locked it behind her, shifting a small crate in front of the door as a makeshift alarm.

The door in the back opened into a small office, and Emma settled down in quite the office chair. She could almost lean back in it and fall asleep at that very moment, but her stomach once again reminded her that she was due for some food. She hated stealing from this nice guy that imminently just gave her a job, but she told herself she'd pay him back, of course. She wasn't a thief, this was just borrowing. Looking through the drawer, she found lots of paperwork, miscellaneous old work tools, and finally in the top drawer, a pop tart.

"Jackpot," Emma whispered as she ripped the foil off the sugary pastry and hungrily shoved it in her mouth. It wasn't the most well rounded of food groups, but she didn't care. Slowing spinning in the chair, she munched on the pastry and took a look around the small office.

A few posters of the different native Atlantic fish lined the wood paneling in the office. There was a calendar with the current month of September showing a fall scenes of Maine, with a notes scribbled on various days. Emma drug the chair forward to take a look at the elegant handwriting in the tiny margins of space. Most were notations of shipments coming in, customer orders, etc. One said "Dave's B-Day" on it towards the end of the month. Emma set back in the chair, brushing some crumbs off her shirt, before examining some of the pictures on Killian's desk. A picture of him, with another man and a woman took centerstage beside his computer monitor. They had him sandwiched in between them. The man, striking and handsome, had his arm around Killian, and the woman, with her short, dark pixie cut, was squeezing him affectionately. Thye looked nothing like him, but there was a family demeanor to the photo, and love radiated from it. Killian's eyes were crinkled with laughter in the photo, and Emma's heart gave a real squeeze.

There was a smaller picture tucked in behind that one, and Emma reached for it. It was dustier than the other one, but the image here was unmistakable. The man standing next to Killian here had to be a relative, and he was beaming down at Killian. Both of them were standing in front of the store that Emma was now in, cutting the ribbon for the opening of "Jones Fish House". Killian's eyes were gleaming, and the other man had nothing but pride on his face.

The sounds of footsteps outside the store brought Emma from her prowling, and she peaked around the corner of the office into the store, and through the front windows. A couple was walking by, arms linked together, and talking closely, their footsteps echoing off the wood of the boardwalk. Emma let out a sigh and settled back into the chair. Yanking a larger jacket from her bag, she wrapped it around her front and settled back for a few hours of sleep on something that wasn't the ground for the first time in months.

Killian arrived at the store right at 6 a.m., and Emma was waiting outside the store for him. "Good Morning Mr. Jones," she offered, and Killian stopped in mock horror. "Please lass, don't ever call me that again. Killian will do," he corrected her, before handing her a small to-go tray with two coffees and what smelled like breakfast. "Hold this please," he asked her, handing her the tray and reaching into his pockets for keys, then unlocking the front door.

Emma stepped in after him, and he closed the door behind her, flipping on the lights. She faltered at the door, not quite knowing what to do as Killian started towards the office, clicking on lights and starting up the computer as he went along. She stood at the front door holding the coffees and breakfasts awkwardly, and Killian's head popped out of the office. "Come along Swan, first meeting of the morning. Breakfast included…that is if you hurry up and not let it get cold." Emma blinked a few times, before scurrying behind the counter and into the office.

Killian took the tray from her, and sat it down, lifting two cups from it. "I have either coffee or on a hunch, I got a hot chocolate. Would you rather have…" he didn't have to finish before Emma snatched the hot chocolate from his hands. "Hmmm, must have been a good hunch then," Killian mused softly, before reaching into the bag and pulling out two breakfast sandwiches. "These are the same, because they are the best, and if you don't like them you're fired," he joked with her, and Emma smiled softly at him.

"You didn't have to get breakfast…I owe you now," Emma complained, before biting into her sandwich and groaning. Crisp bacon on an egg and cheese sandwich, and was there a sauce on this? It didn't matter, it was pure heaven. Killian smirked at her, and tossed a napkin into her lap.

"Nah…I'll take it out of your check," he winked at her, before taking a bite of his own sandwich, "Plus, it's keeping me from eating trash. My breakfast is usually a cold pop tart." Emma froze for a second and looked up at him. He knew.

But Killian showed no sign of confrontation, just clicked the "On" button on the office computer and hummed softly as it booted up. Emma still tensed, but continued eating her sandwich. If she was going to get fired, it was at least going to be on a full stomach.

"Firing" was a subject that never came into the conversation again however, as Killian pulled up some documents, such as a checklist, and some "How-to" guides, and printed Emma some reading material to look over while he settled some accounts information. The morning was quiet in the office, and once their coffee and hot cocoa had been consumed, it was time to start in the store.

Heading to the shelving system in the store, Killian grabbed a fresh white apron off a shelf, and handed it to Emma. "Ready to get dirty?" he asked, twinkle in his eye. Emma smirked back at him. "Always," she countered and he chuckled. She tied the apron around her waist, and the rest of the day was spent learning fish species, scooping ice, setting up fish displays, watching Killian expertly cut fish, along with greeting customers when they walked in the store.

Towards the end of the day, Emma recognized a petite woman that came through the doors from the photo on Killian's desk, her pixie cut and dark hair unmistakable. "Well, you must be Emma," the woman was ecstatic to see her, and Emma probably looked like a deer in the headlights. "Um, do you need Killian? He just ran a wholesale order to Granny's, but I'm sure he will be back any minute."

"Aren't you well informed! I am so impressed already. You are going to fit in here just perfect!" the woman exclaimed, before holding out her hand, "I'm Mary Margaret."

Emma swept her bangs off her face with her arm, before wiping her hands on her apron and returning the handshake, "Emma Swan".

"Well Emma, I just came from Granny's, and she was talking about how she is currently renovating her B&B, and I didn't know where you were staying, but seeing how that is the best place in town, and it's currently not stayable…aaaaaannndd how I have been looking for a roommate forever because I have this spare room, I wanted to know if you were interested."

"What?" Emma asked again, blinking at the petite woman rattling off facts right in front of her.

"In becoming a roommate… as in "need in a place to stay"?" She asked again, face beaming with hope.

Emma was startled. This woman didn't even know her, and she wanted to open her doors to her? Why? "Um, that's very nice but I'm not sure…"

Mary Margaret's face fell a little, but she kept the smile plastered on, "Well, how about this? I'll write down my number, and you can give me a call if you change your mind and want to see the place. I promise, I'm clean, I have a fulltime job, and I bake a lot which is an added perk."

Emma grimaced a little when she started to write down her number. "I actually don't have a phone right now so…" Emma started, and Mary Margaret didn't miss a beat.

"No problem Emma…I am just going to write my address down here under the phone number, and you stop by anytime. Seriously, anytime!" She glanced up at Emma when she said this.

"Thanks," Emma smiled at her, before taking the card, and tucking it in her back jeans pocket. Mary Margaret clapped her hands together, and beamed at Emma, "Ok…what's the fish of the day? Show me what you got!"

* * *

Emma rolled her head around stretching her neck muscles. She had been on her feet all day, smelled like fish, was covered in dirt from head to toe, and every muscle screamed for a bath and a bed. Which probably wasn't in the agenda for the evening, but it did feel good to do some hard work again…to have purpose.

Killian was working in the office when Emma popped her head in. "Ok, all the fish is put away, and I think I did it correctly. Anything else you need from me?"

Killian stretched back in his chair and took at look at her. Fish scales clung to her ponytail and she looked thoroughly worn out. "You alright there lass?" he questioned. Emma nodded at him, "Of course I will be. I asked for the hard work, didn't I?"

"Aye, that you did," he smiled softly, and turned back to the computer, "I've got some administrative stuff to do, so I'll be here for a while."

Emma nodded and turned to leave, "You did good work today Emma. I didn't know how much I needed the help in here, but it's nice to have some company. The tip money in the jar is yours, and I'll see you tomorrow. " Emma smiled at him, and offered up a simple "Thanks" before turning away.

Sighing as she gathered her tips, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in that office chair, and that didn't seem to be on the agenda either tonight. Pocketing a few bucks, she could rest assured that she would at least be able to get a bite to eat tonight. She trudged out the door and around the corner to the small cafe known as "Granny's" to pick-up some food to go. And as she started the walk over, the sky opened up and began to pour rain. Emma ducked down under a store awning and dug around in her bag for a jacket. As she was digging towards the bottom, she felt her hand slip through the side of the bag. Looking up, she realized that her bag had ripped open, and her clothes were scattered down the street.

"Really?" she whined, and sprinted through the rain to gather up her now soggy socks, pants and shirts, before ducking back under the awning, and saying a silent prayer she didn't miss any underwear lying in the streets.

This wasn't going to work. She couldn't sleep outside tonight in this rain storm, and she couldn't break into her own work tonight (which was ridiculous that she was doing that in the first place anyway) because Killian was there. She reached for the card in her back pocket.

Mary Margaret's doorbell rang a little after 8 p.m. It had just started pouring rain, and her boyfriend David wasn't due over for another 30 minutes. In the middle of cooking, she placed the potholders down and went to the door, opening it slightly to look through.

Emma stood, drenched head to toe, on her doorstep. Her hands were full of clothes, and off her shoulder hung a limp, torn backpack.

"Emma," Mary Margaret opened the door for the soaked woman.

Emma smiled meekly up at her, "Sorry to bother you so late…is that spare room still available?"


	3. Chapter 3

Emma sighed as she wrapped the big fluffy towel around her. She hadn't had a shower like that in a while. She took a hand and wiped the fog from the small vanity window in the bathroom, and took a look at herself. She'd definitely looked better before. Her cheeks were a little on the hollow side, her hair looked limp and sad (even though it was wet right then), and there were dark circles under her eyes. _Jesus… was this what she had looked like at Mary Margaret's door?_

Hushed whispers floated into the bathroom from the kitchen, and Emma cracked the door open slightly to listen. From the sound of it, Mary Margaret was talking on the phone to someone.

"Yes, it's Killian's new employee and she needs a place to stay so she's staying here... You know very good and well that's not the bed you crash in when you are here, so stop it….David you can do without my cooking for one night…Go get some beers and a pizza and go over to Killian's, you love doing that anyway. " Emma smiled a little at the familiarity over the phone, and suddenly felt bad about eaves dropping. Opening the door a little wider, the older hinges let out a squeak, and it was an announcement that Emma was done with the shower.

"David, I have to go, she's done with the shower. But I want you to get the full 411 from Killian and I want to hear all about it tomorrow. Ok, Ok, I love you too," Mary Margaret rushed her boyfriend off the phone and turned to Emma as she entered the room, still wrapped in the fluffy towel. "Better?" she chirped, as she set the phone down on the counter.

"Much," Emma nodded her head, and Mary Margaret beckoned her to follow into her bedroom area in the small loft apartment. "Sorry if the water pressure wasn't the best…the pipes are a little old in this building."

Emma laughed, because she hadn't had a proper shower in weeks. "Trust me, it was amazing."

Mary Margaret smiled at her, tilting her head. "Well good," she said, placing a hand on Emma's arm reassuringly. Emma practically jumped at the contact, but Mary Margaret didn't flinch. "I hope you don't mind, " she continued, "but I threw your clothes in the washing machine. Storybrooke is a pretty clean town, but our streets are not. So… I'll just need to find you something to wear to bed, although I hope you'll join me for dinner and a glass of wine before you head there."

Emma smiled at the woman, who was clearly just a genuinely nice person. It was hard to trust people in general, but it was hard _not_ to trust Mary Margaret. Mary Margaret pulled out a matching flannel pajama set, with lace around the edges. She looked at Emma apologetically, "I don't have much that doesn't have lace or floral on it. I've always been a girly girl….this is as good as it gets. Will this work?"

"Of course…thank you so much," Emma grabbed the pajamas from Mary Margaret and gestured that she was headed upstairs to the spare loft to change.

Mary Margaret smiled as she left the room, and headed back towards the kitchen to check on the fish that she had purchased earlier from Emma. Opening the oven, she called up to the loft, "So Emma, red or white?"

* * *

"Pirate!" David scowled on Killian's doorstep, holding a pizza and a six-pack of beer. Killian took the beer and gestured for David to enter.

"Why, whatever do you mean Dave?" he asked, setting the six-pack down and knocking off the cap using the table edge as a bottle opener.

"You know damn good and well what I mean," David scolded him with good nature.

"Aye, I do. Sorry… I can't but help a damsel in distress. I'm sure you can relate to that at least."

David scowled at him, before taking a bite of pizza, "You stole my dinner plans from me! Mary Margaret was making her Black Sea Bass tonight. "

Killian clapped the man on the back, before steering him towards the couch. "You'll live mate. Plus, you love hanging out with me. Admit it."

David plopped down next to Killian on the couch with a large _harrumph_. "I shall do no such thing," he protested, taking a sip of the beer Killian offered him, "What are you watching anyway?"

Killian's eyes twinkled at the chance to harass his friend. "A History Channel documentary of British War Ships of the 1700s."

David threw up his hands and groaned, "Tonight is the worst!" before throwing his head back dramatically on the couch and muttering, "I just wanted my sea bass."

Killian nodded solemnly, "Aye, I know you wanted to just _see_ some _ass_ tonight Dave, but I'm sure Mary Margaret will be just as accommodating tomorrow and…." A pillow smacked Killian in the face before he could finish his teasing, and David stomped up from the couch and snatched the remote from the arm of the lounge chair, and flicked the TV to ESPN. Glaring at a giggling Killian, David took a sip of his beer and turned his attention back to the sports on TV.

* * *

Dinner had been lovely, really lovely, and Emma felt guilt about most likely interrupting date night. Mary Margaret and Emma were settled on the couch now, sipping on a second glass of red wine. "Thanks for dinner, "Emma fumbled, "I feel guilty like I might have interrupted a date or something."

Mary Margaret laughed and shook her head no, "Oh no, you didn't. Trust me. David and I have been going out a long time, and he will be able to have that dish many more times in our lifetime together. Having pizza with Killian will not kill him."

"Lifetimes, "Emma repeated back at her, "are you guys engaged?" Mary Margaret seemed to beam when she talked about David.

"No, not yet. We're not in a hurry though. It's true love, so there's no rush," Mary Margaret said with confidence, "Do you have anyone special…"

Emma shook her head quickly no, and took a sip of her wine. At the thought of it, her feet retreated further underneath her on the couch, and Mary Margaret literally watched her curl into herself, and her body language changing.

Mary Margaret reached out and put a hand on her leg. Emma looked up at her and Mary Margaret smiled gently, and gave her leg a pat. "I'm glad you're here Emma. Let's see what's on TV?"

Flicking on the television, Emma seemed to relax a bit. Mary Margaret smiled at her again, before turning her attention back to the TV. "I'm in the mood for something funny, what about you?"

* * *

"So what's the deal with this new employee? Is this a charity case?" Killian scowled at David's words.

"It's no such thing…I simply wish to offer my assistance to someone who needs it," he countered, getting up to get another beer from the fridge.

David followed closely behind, "Ahhhh, so it IS a charity case." Killian closed the fridge a bit too hard and looked up at him, "No, it's not. And don't go telling Mary Margaret that it is either…because it's NOT."

David put his hands up in surrender, "Alright, it's not. So, what is it exactly? You haven't had anyone in there since…"

"Don't say his name!" Killian spoke forcibly at this friend, before running his hands through his hair, and David grew quiet. Taking a deep breath he looked at his friend, "I never took that 'Help Wanted' sign out of the window after the accident. I just forgot… and she saw it, and came in my shop just looking like… a complete mess, and so just…. broken. Dave, she looked like me for that first year. But she's got this wall up, yet when people walked in the store today, every one made her spook like a skittish filly. She's a mystery and yet an open book."

David smiled at him, "Oh, you like her." Killian frowned at him.

"I do not…it's not like that. I just, see something in her that I've seen in myself."

"You like her," David stated again, and Killian sighed, dropping his head to the counter. "Dave, come on mate," Killian mumbled into the countertop.

"Mary Margaret will be very happy at this latest turn of events. She loves to play matchmaker. Have a good night buddy," David smirked, grabbing his phone and keys off the table and headed for the door.

Killian heard the door close behind David, and yet he made no move to lift his head from the table. This woman that had entered his shop…she was beautiful. Broken but beautiful. Skittish but kind. Strong but fearful. He was glad she had a place to stay now, because watching her break into the store on camera just to sleep had broken his heart. He was so glad he ran into Mary Margaret later that day, and she was more than happy to offer up her spare room. This scared, beautiful woman deserved a soft and dry place to sleep, and more than a stale Pop-Tart to eat for a meal.

Killian sat up and ran his hands through his hair once more. "Fuck," he mumbled, before downing his beer and heading to bed. That night, he dreamed of Emma Swan. She was under his skin now.


	4. Chapter 4

_Wow guys…I can't even say how lovely these reviews are. Thank you thank you!_

* * *

Emma padded downstairs barefoot and in Mary Margaret's pajamas the next day, feeling more rested than she had in months.

"Well Good Morning Emma!" Mary Margaret chirped from the kitchen, and Emma smiled at her as she shuffled into the kitchen. "How did you sleep?" she asked, fiddling with a kettle on the stove and pouring hot milk into two cups.

Emma rolled her shoulders and tied her hair up into a messy topknot, as she took a seat at the kitchen island. "I haven't slept that well in…well in a very long time."

"Good," Mary Margaret beamed at her, and placed a cup of cocoa in front of her. "I took a guess that you might be a cocoa girl. Am I right?" she asked, with raised eyebrows. Emma closed her eyes as she took a sip, and sighed deeply as the warm liquid woke her down to the tips of her toes.

"You are so right," she sighed, taking another sip, "This is amazing."

Mary Margaret winked at her. "My secret is cinnamon," she whispered, and headed to the couch, where Emma's clothing from the night before was neatly folded. She carried them over to the counter and plopped them down. Emma stuttered into her hot cocoa, "Mary Margaret you did not have to do that!"

"Nonsense. It's nice to have someone to take care of a little," she patted Emma's back as she went back to her spot at the stove, fussing over a pan on a burner. "David thinks I fuss too much, so it's nice to have someone new to annoy." Emma pivoted on her barstool to face Mary Margaret, and clutching both hands around her cocoa, she took a better look at the apartment. It was very shabby chic, and 100% Mary Margaret.

"I like your apartment," Emma said, smiling at her new roommate, and Mary Margaret beamed back, placing a plate of eggs in front of her. "Thank you," she replied genuinely, and took a seat next to her at the island. "I think it fits me," she said, taking a minute to glance around. "Definitely," Emma agreed, before diving into the plate in front of her.

* * *

"Good Morning Swan!" Killian raised his eyebrows as he greeted her. Seemed a shower and a soft bed had done her wonders. The circles under her eyes were still there, but they had softened. Her hair was blown out, and formed soft ringlets around her face. She sported another pair of jeans than the ones she had been wearing before, and a soft flannel shirt that hugged her curves just right. Worn brown boots completed the outfit, a slight bit different than the worn out tennis shoes she had been wearing the previous day. There was a pep in her step that wasn't there before.

"Well, don't you clean up nicely, " Killian grinned at her, leaning back in his office chair. She rolled her eyes at him, and plucked her apron from the back of the door.

"Too bad it won't last even an hour in here," she countered, tying the apron around her back, but grinning slyly at him from underneath her lashes. Slipping back out front, Killian shook his head at her. What a change already in her demeanor overnight.

"Killian," Emma popped her head back in the office quickly, "Good Morning to you too."

Feeling a smile wash over his face, he turned back to the computer as he heard Emma start on the morning tasks of opening the shop. "Yes, I believe it will be."

After getting the store set up for the day, and after Killian had finished his wholesale orders and office work, it was time for Emma's first fish cutting lesson. The duo stood next to the industrial sink, a large cutting board on each side, and a flounder in front of each of them.

"Ok Emma, this isn't the easiest fish to learn on, but we have some excess, and I know for a fact that Granny will look the other way if some of the fillets we sell her are a little rough around the edges," Killian explained to her, and Emma bit her bottom lip, looking hesitant, fillet knife in hand.

"Ok lass, watch me first. It's not that hard," he reassured her, before talking her through the basic cuts of the filleting process. Killian's experienced hands and years of practice made it look easy, and in just a few minutes, the flounder was neatly filleted, and placed in the fish display case.

Emma frowned as she stabbed at the fish in front of her, jerkily handling the blade, and accidently slicing through the back of the fish. "Shit," she mumbled, and sheepishly looked up at Killian.

"I said she'd take rough around the edges Swan, not cut through the middle," he joked with her, and Emma stomped her foot on the ground. "Damn it Killian, I don't have the slightest clue at all what I am doing."

"Easy easy, that was a joke. Here, let me help," he started, and came around behind her, placing his hand over hers on the blade. Killian could feel her tense immediately, and he took pause. "Relax Emma, I'm not trying to be fresh, I am trying to teach you to cut this fish. Take a deep breath and relax, and your blade will glide through better. Rule number one: trust in your blade." He placed his left hand on hers on the fish, and positioned it out of the way of the blade, and with his right hand grasping hers, he slid the blade expertly down the back bone of the fish.

"Feel the way it bumps along the ribs? That pop pop pop? That's what you want to feel as you cut through," Killian explained softly, before removing himself from behind her. He could see her visually relax, and let out a shaky breath before looking over her shoulder at him. "You couldn't have just told me that?"

"Aye, I could have, but it's better to show than tell," Killian winked at her, before turning to the customer that was announced by the old fashioned bell above the door. "Mr. Hopper! How are you today?" Killian moved away from her, and Emma took another shaky breath. _What the hell was that?_

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she went back to the task at hand. By the time Killian had finished with his customer, Emma had finished the other side of the fish, and produced a somewhat useable fillet. She held it up for Killian's inspection. "Not bad love, not bad at all," he smiled at her.

Emma did a little clap and hit her fist lightly on the cutting board. "Hot damn," she exclaimed, before grabbing the next fish in the pile and going at it again, "Ok… I've got this." Killian beamed at her concentrated face as she slid the knife in with more confidence, and drug it slowly along, producing shaky fillet after fillet. Granny would have to be sweet talked a little to take this batch, but he could usually butter her up with a few eyes bats, and a generous discount.

And that's how the afternoon continued, customers coming in and Killian helping them, letting Emma stay at the cutting board and focus on the task at hand. He noticed after a while her concentration set in, and she stopped looking over her shoulder at the door every time it opened, and her cuts became near perfect. It was also nearing 5 o'clock, and the supply of whole flounder was dwindling.

Killian placed a hand gently on her back to draw her from her concentrated cutting, as a few tries of "Swan" had failed. Emma jumped at the touch and then yelped as the blade she was holding slipped from her grasp, slicing her palm open.

"Damn it," they both muttered at the same time, and Killian grabbed her palm, switching on the faucet and running the cut under the cold water. "Flush that out and stay here, I'll be right back," he commanded before rushing back to the office. Emma winced as the cold water hit the open wound. She had to stop being so jumpy…especially if her new job consisted of holding sharp objects.

Killian came back with a first aid kit and a clean, dry towel. Gently pulling her hand from under the water, and switching off the hose, he patted dry her hand. "Lemme take a look at it," he urged, and Emma made a noise of protest.

"It's not that bad," she started as she began to pull back her hand, and Killian looped his fingers around her wrist and put it back on the towel.

Making eye contact with her he smiled softly, "Humor me Swan." Knitting his brows in concentration, he cleaned the wound, which was deep, but according to Killian, would require neither stitches nor amputation. Wrapping a strip of gauze around her hand, and tying it with a neat bow, he couldn't help but place a chaste kiss on top of the bow and mummer "All better."

Emma pulled her arm out of his grasp and smiled meekly, "Thanks. Um, I guess we should clean up here…"

"Nonsense Swan, you are injured and I shall not have you bleeding on all of my perfectly cut fillets. Go home."

"But," Emma started and Killian sat his face in playful determination, "Go Swan! I won't have it!"

Emma huffed and went in the back to grab her small bag, and headed for the door, scowling.

"Oh Emma?" Killian stopped her as she went to leave the shop, "Make sure to wear comfortable clothes and bring a jacket tomorrow."

"What?" she asked, hand on the door, brow furrowed in confusion.

He smiled at her, then looked back to the cleaning task at hand, informing her casually, "Tomorrow the shop is closed. It's delivery day."

Emma stood at the door, confused look still on her face. Killian looked up from the fillet case, as he flicked it's light off.

"Get ready for a road trip love."


	5. Chapter 5

Emma showed up at the usual time in the morning, and parked outside the shop was an old pick-up truck, at least 30 years old. Killian was loading iced crates and coolers into the back of it, and smiled when Emma approached.

"Good morning Swan! Ready for an adventure?" he chirped at her with a wink, and she rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm.

"I suppose so Jones," she countered, raising the large basket she had in her hands, "Mary Margaret says hello and sent me with lunch for today."

Killian grinned at her as he sauntered over to her, and lifted the flap up on the side of the basket. "Oh she did, did she?"

Emma scowled, and pulled the basket away from him, placing it in the back of the truck, "Don't plunder through it just yet. Wait until lunch at least…"

Killian smirked at her, and went back to work, turning to give her a little bow on the way, "As you wish my lady."

Emma rolled her eyes again, and leaned over the edge of the truck, checking out the contents. "Need a hand?" Emma asked, pushing some of the crates together snugly in the back.

Killian hoisted a large crate in the back of the truck bed, stuffing it down with some difficulty, and then brushed his hands off on his jeans. "No Swan, I think we're ready to roll. Hop on in," he offered, before swinging himself up into the driver's side of the truck. Emma swung herself up, and took a deep breath, settling into the passenger seat.

"Buckle up Swan," Killian requested, turning the key in the ignition, "Let's go for a ride."

Emma let out a laugh as the engine roared to life. They headed down main street, before getting flagged down by an older lady in front of Granny's. Killian slowed and rolled down the window. "Good morning beautiful," Killian addressed the older woman, and she visibly blushed, handing through two cups through the window. "Just thought I'd send you off with a little caffeine boost today, and hot chocolate for…it's Emma right?" the older woman smiled through the window at Emma and she smiled back, clutching her hot cocoa.

"Yes mam, thank you for the cocoa," she replied, and the older woman shrugged as if to say it wasn't a big deal. Killian took a sip of his coffee and sighed, "Alright Granny, what's your price?"

"Whatever do you mean Killian?" Granny asked, nonchalantly. Killian made a tisk tisk sound at her, before placing his coffee in the cup holder. "All coffee comes with a price… what is it this time?"

Granny looked both ways to make sure no one was there, and passed Killian a crisp twenty. "The usual please," she whispered, before smiling at Emma and returning into the small café.

Killian shifted the truck out of park, and started up Main Street again. "What was that about?" Emma asked, feeling like she had just witnessed some sort of illegal deal, "Are you buying her drugs or something?"

"Drugs?" Killian roared with laughter, "Oh that's hilarious."

Emma scowled at him, "Seriously, that was super shady. What are you getting her?"

Killian couldn't wipe the smile of his face, clearly more than a little amused. "Lotto tickets Swan. Granny likes to play the lotto, so I buy her tickets in different towns I go to. Says it increases her odds."

"Lottery tickets?" Emma questioned him again.

Killian let out one last chuckle, "Aye, lottery tickets."

"Oh," Emma said, leaning back in her chair, and glancing at Killian out of the corner of her eye, "Alright then, I guess."

Killian shifted the truck forward and they cruised past the "Leaving Storybrooke" sign. Ready or not, Emma was heading back towards civilization.

The first two stops were easy, Emma didn't even have to get out of the car, and she wondered really, why she was even there. Although, she was a complete bundle of nerves on the trip, and it wasn't just because of the cute Brit in the car beside her, and she was glad she didn't have to interact with strangers. The less contact, the better. The drives between the small restaurants they stopped at were a bit on the lengthy side, but Killian hummed along to the old country that played softly through the speakers, and didn't push Emma for conversation, and she could feel herself relax, besides her better judgment.

After three hours of driving, Killian put on his signal and pulled over on the side of the road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Emma tensed up.

"Why are we stopped?" she asked, nervousness catching in her voice.

Killian looked at her with concern, and eyes her hand on the door handle, ready to flee. "Easy lass, I just thought we could stop and have lunch. I know a nice scenic spot just through the woods here."

"A rest area would have been just fine," Emma mumbled under her breath.

Killian opened the truck door, and jogged around to her side, opening the door for her. Emma still sat in the passenger seat, looking down and picking at the edge of her fingerless gloves again, brimming with embarrassment. Killian held out his hand to her, "Come on Swan, down you get. I'm hungry, and I know you could do with a few more Mary Margaret meals."

She looked up at him and made eye contact, before taking his hand and letting him help her down. He reached in behind the seat she was in, and pulled out an old plaid blanket, handing it to Emma. "You carry this, I've got the basket," he offered, and grabbing the quite heavy lunch pack, gestured for her to follow him.

It was just a few hundred yards from the truck, but tucked behind a dense tree line was a bay that opened out into the sea. Killian set down the basket and took the blanket from her, shaking sand out of it, and laid it down on a sandy spot on the beach. Plopping down on the large blanket, he patted the ground next to him, opening up the basket. "Come Swan, let's see what dear Mary Margaret has packed for us for our lunch."

Emma trailed behind him, and took a seat on the other side of the blanket from him, Killian looked up at her and smiled, "She's packed us a real feast, that roommate of yours."

"Oh?" Emma asked, curious, because Mary Margaret had said it was nothing. Killian pulled out an assortment of goodies from the bag, including tiny china plates, a full cheese board, grapes, olives, a smoked salmon spread, and a fresh French baguette. Killian saw the bottle of sparkling cider at the bottom of the basket along with two plastic champagne flutes, and groaned.

"What?" Emma asked, picking off a few grapes and popping them into her mouth.

Killian looked up at her, lifting the bottle of sparkling cider dramatically, and Emma started giggling.

"This is ridiculous," Emma giggled, yelping when Killian popped the cork of the bottle, and pouring her a glass of the bubbles.

"Aye, this is over the top, even for Mary Margaret," he laughed, and held out his glass for Emma to cheers. "To, new friends, and new colleagues," he offered, and clinked his glass with hers.

The duo ate in silence for a while, before Killian offered up some conversation. "You know, my truck broke down here a few years ago, just where we parked up there, and that's how I found this place. I have lunch here every week if the weather is good. "

Somehow being included in a weekly ritual instead of special plans made Emma feel better about the spread before her. "Is lunch always this fancy?" Emma asked, spreading some cheese on a slice of baguette.

Killian chuckled, "Alas, no. Although, Mary Margaret does like to pack me lunch from time to time. Or Granny will throw in a grilled cheese with my morning coffee. Or sometimes, it's just a simple apple. But I like stopping here. I saw Orcas out in that bay once… a not common occurrence in Maine mind you. Emma looked eagerly at the horizon, squinting.

Killian smiled at her sudden interest, "Alas love, it was a different time of year for that," Emma's face at Killian's remark, and so he countered with "Maybe if you stick around for a while, you'll see them in a few seasons."

Emma tucked her legs up under her, and pondered the past few days. It wasn't where she expected to land, but so far, she'd been enjoying her time in Storybrooke, and on this little day trip with Killian.

After lunch, at their next stop, Killian asked Emma if she wanted to go with him, and check out some of the activity around the boats. They had arrived at a small port, and fishing vessels were coming in. "I pick up some of the local seafood here for the shop, make arrangements for the weeks. Some of the lesser known captains often come in here, so it's a good place to find fresh seafood and make some new contacts. It's a big part of the business if you want to come along."

Emma nodded her head and exited the vehicle, shadowing after Killian as he went from dock to dock, chatting up captains and inspecting their catch of the day. He was very knowledgeable as he went along, and Emma couldn't help but be impressed by the way he navigated the waters of the trade.

"Haven't seen you here before," A younger man stated, carrying a crate of fresh shrimp down the docks towards here. "We don't get a lot of women around here. And I would remember someone as pretty as you." He grinned at her flirtatiously, and sat the crate up on a large table, and began to sort through them.

"Yeah," Emma smiled, choosing not to reveal too much, but walking closer to inspect what he was doing. "What are you doing there...looking for bad ones?" she asked.

The young man gestured her closer with a rubber gloved hand, "I'm grading them. See, we sell them in different sizes and counts. These smaller one, those are a 40 count, meaning there are about 40 of them in a pound,' he showed her the group of the smaller crustaceans. "But these here," he gestured to the larger ones, "Are probably about a 21-25 count, so they will be a bit more. We have to sort them before we sell them." Emma nodded her head, taking it all in. There hadn't been any shrimp in the store yet, so she soaked in the useful information.

Killian was across the docks, and after finishing a conversation with an older gentleman, and procuring several pounds of black sea bass, he headed back to the truck. Emma talking with a younger fisherman caught his eye, and a spark of jealousy flashed up in him, causing him to pause. _Real Professional Killian. She's your employee not your girlfriend._

Nevertheless, after tucking the bass in a cooler, he quickly strode across the docks to see what could possibly be so enthralling. Emma had donned a pair of gloves, and was helping sort through the various shellfish that lay on the table by the time Killian approached, and was able to get a better look at the man who was making her laugh with such ease. Killian clinched his jaw, and snuffed out the unnecessary jealous spark that suddenly flared again.

"What have you found over here love?" he asked, adding the love on for good measure, and making sure to make eye contact with the young man as he did. Emma beamed up at him, holding up a shrimp in her gloved hands, "Shrimp!" she smiled at him, and the man beside her took off a glove and offered his hand to Killian to shake.

"Hi sir, I'm Eric. I'm new here, just took over my dad's shrimping business. Emma here had some questions, and then just decided to jump on in and give me a hand."

Killian raised an eyebrow at Emma, who was expertly sorting through shrimp like she had done it her whole life. "I can see that," he murmured softly, before heading around the side of the table to inspect the shrimp.

"This is a good haul mate," Killian picked up a few of the bright pink beauties in his hand, before dropping them back on the table. "Thank you sir, I'm quite happy about it so early in the year. Pulling up a haul like this is usually a sign winter is right around the corner, and it's only October."

"Aye," Killian agreed, "Might be a sign we're going to have some icy weather to deal with sooner than later."

Emma crinkled her nose at the thought of that, "Really? I hate snow." Killian cocked his head sideways and smiled at her, "Really Swan? I would have pegged you for a lover of the cold, what...with the flannel shirts and the love of the cocoa." He gestured to her current shirt of red plaid.

She shook her head and she pulled the large rubber gloves off her hands, "Nope. I want warm sandy beaches and a 75 degree temperature all year long."

Killian nudged her in the ribs a little with his elbow, leaning down to whisper playfully in her ear, "Maine may not be the place for you then love." She scowled up at him as he winked at her, turning back towards Eric.

"Think there will be a steady supply of these in the upcoming weeks?" he asked, reaching for his checkbook tucked in his back pocket.

"I expect so sir," Eric said, and Killian nodded, "Well, I suppose I should place an order."

"With a discount," Emma chimed in, smiling at Eric, "For the labor."

"For the lady," Eric countered, and Killian frowned. "For whatever," he muttered as he scribbled in the checkbook, and started working out the details for the next several weeks pick-up of fresh shrimp.


	6. Chapter 6

"He was nice," Emma commented as they drove away from the docks. "Was he?" Killian replied, voice tinged with jealously.

"Yeah, he was. I learned a lot about shrimp, which will translate well into the market."

Killian huffed, "Well his prices were a little high. Even with the _discount_."

"What is it Jones?" Emma asked, giving Killian a side-glance, and turning her body towards him. "Did you not want me to go with you, because I thought you did? And now you're acting…" she paused, not wanting to say jealous, because that was unprofessional. "Dumb," she decided on, though scowling because calling your boss dumb instead of jealous wasn't that much better.

Killian frowned as the light in front of him turned red, and he slowed the truck, now caught in an awkward silence.

"I just thought he was leering at you," Killian spoke after a few seconds, not turning to face Emma.

"He wasn't," Emma said flatly, "And if he was…well…I can take care of myself. I've done that for a long time. I don't need a Prince Charming. The only one that saves me is me. IF I'm even in trouble… which I can assure you I wasn't."

Killian turned his head towards her, and the scowl on her face. Of course she could take care of herself. "No prince charming. Got it."

"And maybe I like being leered at sometimes," Emma added trying to get the last word in.

At this statement, Killian cocked an eyebrow up. She narrowed her eyes at him, and resisted the urge to stick out her tongue.

"Duly noted Swan," Killian smirked, and hit the accelerator as the light changed. Emma went to open her mouth only to shut it, and petulantly crossed her arms across her chest. Killian did not stop smirking for several miles.

The last stop of the day was both a delivery and pick up, and probably the most enjoyable stop, at least according to what Killian had told Emma. He had pulled up in front of a small, cabin like building. The word "Monstro" were painting on a small, what looked like hand carved wooden whale, which acted as a sign. A few cars were in front of the building, but it gave off an abandoned vibe from the outside.

Killian jumped out and unloaded two boxes from the bed of the truck, and handed one to Emma. "This person wants Salted Herring?" Emma asked, reading the letter on the box and following behind Killian towards the building. "Aye," Killian answered, balancing the box on a knee while he held the door open for Emma to step through.

Inside, was a very quaint, small pub. The entire wall opposite Emma was framed in glass, giving a wonderful view of a bay outside. Boats were moored to floating docks connected to a walkway, which explained why there weren't many cars outside the bar. Everyone took a boat in.

"Killian!" an older man exclaimed from behind the bar, and came around arms extended. Kissing Killian on both cheeks, he patted his shoulders warmly. "And what have you brought me today?!" he exclaimed, gesturing to Emma holding the box of fish. "Salted herring as usual my friend," Killian said, blowing his hair out of his face, and shifting the heavy box in his arms. "Ah yes, fish of course, but who is this beautiful woman?"

The older man took the box from Emma's arms and placed it on top of Killian's. Killian let out a little grunt, before staggering back towards the walk in freezer, "That's Emma…ugh…I'm just gonna go put these down…" Killian disappeared around the corner, and Emma watched with a concern face as he seemed to buckle under the weight, before the little Italian man distracted her with a two cheek kiss.

"Emma, I am Marco. What a treat! We never get lovely ladies like yourself in here. Come come…sit sit..." he gestured for her to sit at the bar on an intricately carved barstool.

"Wow, these chairs…the carving on these is beautiful," Emma admired, before gingerly sitting down. "Oh, well back when my hands were a little bit stronger, I could still produce beautiful things like that," the man replied, busying himself behind the bar.

" _You_ carved these?" Emma questioned, turning the one beside her around to study the back. "Aye lass, he has quite the talent," Killian spoke, sitting down beside her.

"Had the talent. Don't flatter me Killian," the old man scolded him, but while beaming and throwing him a wink.

"Where have you been hiding this beautiful woman? I don't see you in weeks, and then you show up with this lovely lady? I feel she has kept you busy…" Marco teased Killian, raising eyebrows at him with a _tsk tsk_.

Emma felt a little panic set in, she was NOT with Killian. "Oh no, actually…" Emma started correcting Marco, but Killian placed a hand gently on her back to calm her.

"Alas Marco, you have misinterpreted the relationship between myself and the beautiful Swan. This is, in-fact, the newest employee of Jones Fresh Fish," Killian replied back, and he could feel Emma take a deep breath and settle herself.

"You work for this guy?" Marco gestured to Killian, and Emma grinned back at him, before giving Killian a sly look. "I do indeed. It's only been a few days though, so we'll see how it goes."

Marco laughed, "Well, you watch out for this one Emma. He can be trouble."

Emma let out another laugh at the face Killian made to this statement. Total mopey puppy. "I'll keep my eye on him sir, I promise."

"I like this one Killian, keep her around," he said, pointing to Emma, before putting two glasses on the bar in front of them. "Well, since you've brought me my bait AND a beautiful woman, I suppose I should treat you to something really special tonight."

Killian's eyes lit up, and he scootched forward in his chair, "Oh Marco, don't tease me."

This caused Marco to break out in laughter, before heading to the back, out of sight. Emma swiveled on her barstool to Killian, who still had crinkles in the corner of his eyes from laughing too hard. He was eagerly awaiting Marco's return like a child on Christmas morning.

"What is he getting you?" Emma asked, and Killian fidgeted in his chair. "I don't know Swan, that's the exciting part," he answered with glee, as Marco rounded the corner with a brown paper bag, with what could only be a bottle in it.

Reaching in, he pulled a short, stubby bottle from the bag. A dark, amber liquid filled the container, which was corked, and Emma thought Killian was about to clap with delight.

"Marco, you have OUT DONE yourself this time mate," Killian reached for the bottle and took it from him like he was cradling a small infant. Emma looked from Killian to Marco, and back to Killian.

"Is that rum?" she asked, disbelief over Killian's reaction.

Killian scoffed at her, "Swan, this is more than just rum. Marco, in exchange to keeping his lobster pots properly baited, procures for me the finest rum from around the world. This isn't just rum…this is…this is liquid art in a bottle."

Emma deadpanned at him, "So, it's rum?"

Killian dropped his head dramatically to the bar top. "Swan!" he exclaimed, exasperated. Emma giggled in response, and Marco pulled an already opened bottle of the rum from behind the bar, and poured a few fingers worth into each of their glasses, and a bit in small glass for himself. Killian perked up when he heard the cork pop out of the bottle.

"Marco, we can open this one," he said as Marco passed him the glass. "Nonsense, this was already open. You save that one for a special occasion." Killian nodded, and the three raised their glasses for a toast. "To what should we toast?" Killian asked, looking at his two bar companions. Marco looked between the two of them.

"To being young, full of life, and to the adventures that await you," Marco stated, clinking the glasses together. Killian gazed at Emma, who was softly laughing at witty quip of Marco's, spoken softly so that Killian couldn't hear him. Her golden hair had fallen from her ponytail, and fell around her face in ringlets. She was truly beautiful, and although she was guarded, she was strong, fierce, and Killian was afraid he would never have enough of her. The day with her was lovely, and he couldn't wait to spend time driving with her next week. And he found himself looking forward to work the past few mornings, instead of the dread that had greeted him for over a year. "To adventures that await us," Killian murmured softly, before taking another sip of his rum.

A few local men called Killian over a bit later, and Emma took the chance to talk to Marco. "How long have you had this place?" Emma asked, having switched to wine. Rum was good, but she much preferred a nice glass of cabernet. Marco worked on drying a glass, but Emma suspected that he just liked to keep his hands busy, as he had been drying it for at least five minutes. "I opened this spot up about, 15 years ago. Once my hands started giving me trouble." He held up a hand to show Emma, and his elderly fingers were knotted with arthritis, and Emma gave him a sympathetic smile.

Marco waved her smile off, "Ah…do not feel bad for an old man. I am still surrounded by the things I love, and I everyday I get to serve wonderful people. Like Killian. I've known him for…well since I opened this place. He and Liam used to dock here after a day on the water, and I always made sure to have rum ready for those boys. I even put them up here several times after too much of it." He chuckled at the memory.

Emma's brow furrowed, "Wait, I'm sorry…whose Liam?" Emma asked, and Marco's faces turned sad. "Ah, he hasn't told you yet. Well, that comes with time I suppose."

Emma looked at him with a questioning expression, and Marco sighed, lowering his voice, even though Killian was across the room. "Liam was Killian's brother. He passed a little over a year ago. His trips up here, or at least to visit me, have faltered quite a bit since it happened. I maybe see him every few weeks now, when the Jones boys used to visit me a few times a week. I worry about him, you know? I always thought so highly of those boys, and I know Killian hasn't been the same since. In fact, he's been he most like his old self tonight than I have seen him in a long time."

Emma looked shocked, and Marco smiled at her, patting her hand gently, "I have a feeling you are going to bring out the best in him, and bring our old Killian back to us."

"Swan!" Killian smiled brightly, sliding up beside her. His cheeks were flushed from the glass of rum, and he smiled down at her, grinning like a fool.

"Jones?" she questioned, taking a sip of her wine.

Leaning up on one elbow, his face melded into a flirtatious smirk, and he leaned towards her. "I believe it is time to escort the lady home, unless she would rather stay here this evening. I am sure I could arrange some leering if you are interested?"

Killian laughed as Emma smacked his arm. "Perhaps another time then?" he countered raising his eyebrows, and Emma smacked his arm again. "Alright alright," Killian laughed, and raised his arms up in surrender, before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. "Don't you even think about it!" Marco scolded, before coming around to the front of the bar and embracing Killian in a very fatherly hug, kissing the side of his temple loudly, and patting his cheek. "Be good," he instructed him, and Killian grinned back at him. "Never!" he countered, and Marco laughed. "That's my boy!"

Emma slid off of her barstool, and Marco enveloped her in a hug, "It was so wonderful to meet you Emma. I hope I'll see much more of you in the future. Killian, you better bring her back with you!"

Killian smiled warmly at the man, before locking eyes with Emma, "If she'll accompany me, I will gladly escort her back into your lovely establishment." Emma dropped her head and broke eye contact with him, blushing slightly.

Marco shook his head and nudged Emma with his elbow, "He can't just say 'Yes' can he?" He laughed and gave Emma one last kiss on her cheek, before heading back behind the bar.

The duo traveled in silence for most of the way back. They were only about a 45-minute drive from Storybrooke when they left Marco's, and the soft humming of Killian along with the radio was the most noise the cab heard for most of the ride.

"I really liked Marco," Emma stated, cutting through the soft musical ambiance of the cab as they neared town. Killian grinned, and glanced over at Emma. "I love that man. Sometimes I think he's the closest thing I've ever had to a father."

"He uh, he told me about Liam," Emma said softly, and Killian's expression changed. He clenched his jaw, and Emma saw the muscle flex beneath the scuff on his cheek. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I just…."

Killian pursed his lips together. "It's ok lass, it's been a while. It just, sometimes the wound seems a little fresher than other times." Emma supposed that Killian meant for this to sound like it was actually ok, but his voice was strained, and the sadness of it filled the cab, making it seem suddenly much smaller. _Why did I even say anything?_ she thought.

The last ten minutes back were filled with quiet, as Killian had flicked the radio off. They pulled back into town, and parked in front of the fish shop. The sun had gone down a few hours ago, and Emma cringed at thinking about unloading everything right now. She was genuinely tired, but Killian must have seen her face. "Go home Swan, I'll see you tomorrow," he stated, still with a sad tinge in his voice. He dropped the tailgate of the truck, and reaching for the first cooler.

Emma was right beside him in a heartbeat, grabbing the other side and heaving it from the bed. "I said you could go home Swan," Killian stated again, looking at her with confusion.

"I know," Emma said, smiling at him, "So, where's this going? Let's get this unloaded." Killian hesitantly smiled back through his sad expression, and seemed to perk up, and it only took a few minutes to unload the truck and get the goods into the walk in freezer. Killian even managed to make a sly comment about the shrimp again, and Emma just shook her head, and pushing him back out the door for the next cooler.

Once everything was loaded in, and Killian shut the tailgate, there was a sudden shift in the mood. The air changed, and Emma, who stood awkwardly a few feet away from Killian, suddenly felt like she was at the end of a date. But it wasn't a date. It was work.

"Thanks for coming with me Emma," Killian started, nervously scratching the back of his neck, and Emma stopped him by coming forward suddenly and giving him a quick peck on the cheek, before turning and walking back towards Mary Margaret's loft. "See you tomorrow Jones," she called behind her, walking quickly away, and ducking up the next street.

Killian stood stunned in the street by his truck, fingertips on his cheek where Emma's lips had touched it mere moments earlier. "Emma Swan," he whispered to the night, a small smile spreading across his face, before shaking his head and climbing into his truck, "you are just full of surprises."

 **Thank you so much for your reviews and kind words! I am loving this story so much, and I can't wait to share more with you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I have been blown away by the response to this story. You guys are making ME so excited to write.**

 **This is a long one...**

* * *

The next several days passed by without incident…no leering and no cheek kisses. Emma and Killian worked well together, and bringing fresh shrimp into the market brought the townspeople in, so each day was busy. Emma found it incredibly fulfilling, and felt completely welcomed by the townspeople.

Living with Mary Margaret had been wonderful as well. Emma had never had a girlfriend before, so it was lovely to head home, put on PJs and talk about their days. Usually Mary Margaret was cooking something, and Emma found herself quickly looking like her old self again. Her cheeks had a healthy flush, and sleeping in a bed rid her of the dark circles under her eyes. Mary Margaret even commented on it one night as they tucked themselves in on her big couch to find a TV show to watch.

"You know Emma, I think Storybrooke suits you," Mary Margaret commented, giving Emma an all-knowing look. Emma smiled and took a sip of her cocoa. "Yeah, I really like it here," she agreed.

"Where are you from originally?" Mary Margaret asked, turning her attention from the TV to the blonde on the couch, "I feel like I know nothing about you really." The comment was innocent, and she knew Mary Margaret was just being her kind, curious self, but Emma was still uncomfortable talking about her past.

"Oh, you know, all over," she commented, before pulling the remote from Mary Margaret's hand and flipping through the channels. Mary Margaret narrowed her eyes a bit and studied Emma.

"Emma, were you in trouble when you came here?" she asked, and Emma froze. There was a tense moment of silence.

Emma took a deep breath, "If I say yes, will you kick me out?"

"What?" Mary Margaret exclaimed, "Emma no! I just… I want to help if I can. You are such a nice person, and you're so different than when you got here. You're the kind of person that deserves a happy ending."

"You wouldn't say that if you really knew me," Emma muttered, and Mary Margaret all but snapped back, "Well I won't know you unless you tell me more about yourself. "

Emma's head fell back on the couch, and she sighed. "If I tell you one thing about my past, will you leave me alone to drink this cocoa and watch this attractive Scottish man on TV?"

"Yes," Mary Margaret stated, folding her hands in her lap and seemingly waiting for story time.

Emma groaned inwardly. Sharing was always hard, but she wanted to pick the least sad story she could from her past. "OK… here is fact number one: I'm an orphan. I've lived all over, because I bounced around in the system for 18 years. OK… now you know a fact, can we go back to Outlander?," she blurted all out at once without looking away from the television.

Mary Margaret smiled sadly at Emma, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. Emma didn't look away from the TV, but she gave her hand a little squeeze back.

* * *

"Killian," Emma called from the front as she clicked the open sign off after another long day at the market, "I'm almost done here. I'm heading out soon." Killian rolled his chair over to the open office door and peeked out at her, "One second Swan, come here if you don't mind."

Emma shrugged off her apron, and hung it on the door as she entered the office, "Yes Jones?"

"You never take any fish with you," he stated, and Emma looked at him with confusion. "Yes I do," she countered.

"Ah, but that is for your lovely roommate Swan. You never take any for you."

"Yeah, but I usually eat what Mary Margaret cooks anyway," she argued.

"Well take something for yourself tonight. Try and cook it, it's good to be able to share some cooking tips with customers" he told her turning back to his computer, and Emma scoffed at him.

"What?" he asked, glancing back.

She laughed, "If you knew how I cooked, you wouldn't be telling me to take expensive fish."

"Why Swan, can you not cook?" he questioned, turning his full attention to her.

"I mean, I make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich," she quipped, and Killian smirked.

"Then I shall have to teach you then. What time should I be round your place?" he answered.

Emma stuttered, "I, uh, I don't know how Mary Margaret would feel about me have company, er, even if it's work, and I uh…it's late notice and…."

"Relax Swan, Mary Margaret loves me. And I happen to know it's Saturday night, which is date night, and on date night she stays over at David's. She won't even be there to bother us with her cheery demeanor." Killian beamed up at her, plotting filling his facial features.

"What?" Emma asked, dumbfounded.

Killian saved the document he was working on, and stood up, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

"OK Swan, I'll be over in a few hours. Go home and take a shower, you smell like fish." Emma swatted his shoulder at the insult, and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Did you just invite yourself over for dinner?" she asked, questioning him again, as they both exited the front door.

"No love, I just invited myself over to cook dinner for you. See you tonight," he grinned at her as he locked the door, and turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

"Really?" Emma muttered, before turning and quickly walking back to the loft.

Emma sat on a barstool at the kitchen island, nervously fidgeting with her curls, as she talked to Mary Margaret, who was prepping for her weekly Saturday night date in the bathroom.

"So you don't mind that he's coming over here?" Emma asked, as she watching Mary Margaret run a straightening iron through her pixie cut.

"Of course not Emma! This is your home too, and I _do_ want you to feel at home here," she smiled at Emma, and Emma smiled nervously back.

"Well, I have to say, Killian is in for a treat. You look beautiful tonight," Mary Margaret gave her a smile, laced with just a little extra something.

Emma rolled her eyes, "This is a work thing." Mary Margaret laughed at her, and started working on her make-up. "That's why you're all dolled up? And already having a glass of wine?" She pointed at the glass on the counter with her mascara brush.

Emma let out a huff, "I don't know. Should I not be having one?"

"Emma honey, do whatever you want to. You know I won't judge. I'm just pointing out, that maybe, it's not just a work thing." She raised her eyebrows at Emma, waiting for a response.

"I don't know what it is…besides a cooking lesson," Emma slumped on the barstool a bit.

"Emma, that's OK too. Have fun with Killian, regardless if it's work, or a cooking lesson, or a date…" she trailed off as Emma's head shot up at the last comment.

Standing up, she looked Mary Margaret in the eye, "Well I at least know what it's not, and that's a date." With that, she headed back up the stairs to her bedroom to wait for Killian to arrive.

"Ok," said Mary Margaret after her, smiling, and waiting until she was up the stairs to add, "But maybe you should decide on what shirt to wear, and stop changing outfits. He will be here in a few minutes."

Mary Margaret laughed at the frustrated noise that came from her loft bedroom, when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Mary Margaret yelled up the stairs, and scurried to the door. Killian was beaming on the other side, arms full of bags. His face fell slightly with disappointment when the face that greeted him wasn't Emma, but he smiled at her nonetheless.

"Hi Killian," Mary Margaret chirped in her special way, before leaning towards him and whispering, "She's upstairs changing. I think she's nervous." Killian's eyebrows rose at this, and he gave Mary Margaret an inquisitive look as he entered the apartment.

"Emma, your teacher is here!" she yelled up the stairs, and mouthed a 'Good Luck' to Killian as she receded back to the bathroom.

"Swan," Killian called up to her, " Are you ready to for some seafood knowledge? I'm going to turn you into Storybrookes own Nigella Lawson…" He trailed off as she appeared in the kitchen suddenly.

She had put on a little bit more make-up that she usually wore (Mary Margaret was a saint that let her raid her collection) and she had opted for a soft, hunter green sweater that was low cut, and black leggings (Although they were really the only pants that weren't now covered in perpetual fish smell). Her hair was in gentle ringlets around her face, unlike the high ponytail she usually sported, and she looked softer. She had meant to put on some sort of shoes, but in the excitement of seeing Killian, she trotted down the stairs in her bare feet.

Killian shook his head in amazement. "You look wonderful Swan," he complimented her, "Nothing like Nigella Lawson, how could I even compare the two of you?"

She cocked her head to the side and smiled at him, "And I even showered, so I won't smell like fish now." She padded into the kitchen, and Killian took a moment to take a few steps closer to her, lean forward, and inhale deeply. "Ah yes, not a wiff of fish," he teased her, and she swatted him playfully in the shoulder. "Swan, why do you keep hitting me? I am trying to give you a complement!" he accused her mockingly. She rolled her eyes at him, before peaking over the edge of the brown paper bags to examine the contents.

"Now now Swan," Killian came up behind her causing Emma to jump slightly, and pulled the bag out from in front of her, carrying it over to another part of the counter, "No peeking."

Emma huffed, before turning to the fridge and reaching in for the open bottle of wine. "Can I at least offer you a drink?"

Killian peered at the label before wrinkling his nose, and handing her a few bottles from in the bag. "You can, but let's put these in there for after."

"Oh you don't like my taste in wine?" Emma countered, reaching up to find him a glass, before pouring the wine into it, and topping her glass up. "I would never insult a lady of her choice of wine. I just have very…particular tastes when it comes to libations," he informed her.

"I remember the rum," Emma countered, handed him his glass, and he raised it to her in thanks.

"To our first adventure!" he toasted her, and with a wink brought back memories of earlier in the week with Marco. "To our first adventure," Emma agreed, taking a sip.

"Now…where to begin…" Killian started to take things out of the bags lined up on the counter, and the doorbell rang again. "I got it," Mary Margaret yelled, scurrying through the house to reach the door. "David!" she exclaimed with glee, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend's neck and planting a firm kiss to his lips as soon as the door opened.

David kissed her back, and Emma had a moment of jealously at their honeymoon stage romance, that according to Killian, had been going on for years.

"Killian!" David greeted him with surprise when he looked up from Mary Margaret, and immediately came over to the kitchen to see what he brought over in bags, leaving Mary Margaret standing at the door with her hands on her hips.

"David!" Mary Margaret's tone changed from the first exclamation of his name moments early, to pure scolding, and David looked up with mock innocence as he prowled through the bags.

"What? Killian is here and I…" he started to explain, and Mary Margaret shook her head at him. "No David, you are not invading Killian's plans tonight with Emma. We are going out. Period."

David's attention quickly shifted to Emma, having not met her yet. "Emma, it's so nice to meet you. Killian and Mary Margaret have told me so much about you! You're in for a treat if Killian is cooking tonight." He turned to look at Killian, voice suddenly very serious, "Oh, are you making the crab dip?"

Killian chuckled, "I can't tell you mate, that would ruin the surprise for Emma here." David looked wistfully ahead, "Emma, I hope he's making the crab dip. It's only the best thing in the world."

"Really?" Mary Margaret asked, having stomped over next to him. David wrapped his arm around Mary Margaret's shoulders, looking at her with mock seriousness, "Mary Margaret, I love you very much. But I would marry that crab dip in a heartbeat. You know this, and you knew it from day one, that we have an open relationship when it comes to Killian's cooking. I love it too much."

Mary Margaret deadpanned looked at David, "You are so stupid." Turning to Killian and Emma, she rolled her eyes, before linking arms with David and dragging him towards the door, "You guys have fun. Emma, I'll see you tomorrow. Killian, it's been a pleasure to reacquaint myself with my boyfriend's love of you and your cooking."

"Are you sure we can't just go out next week? He's making crab dip…I just know it," David attempted to negotiate as Mary Margaret dragged him to the door. "Wait for me crab dip!" he called back, hand out stretched dramatically towards the bags of food, before being jerked roughly through the front door, with a "For Christ's Sake" mumbled from Mary Margaret on the way.

Emma smirked into her wine as Killian shook his head, before smiling at Emma. "I hate to disappoint love, but my famous crab dip is not on the menu tonight."

"That's probably for the best. If it's anything like David said, I might fall totally in love and run away with it," Emma laughed.

"Or me," Killian joked with a raised eyebrow.

"Depends on how the rest of your cooking is…" Emma remarked, taking a sip of her wine, and raised _both_ of her eyebrows at him.

Reaching into one of the bags on the table, Killian pulled out two live and kicking lobsters to Emma's surprise. "Good thing I'm going all out then," he countered, before turning to the stove and flicking it on. Emma took a large, nervous gulp of her wine, before changing the subject.

"Um, anything I can do to help?" Emma asked, "I'll feel bad if I just sit here."

"Of course love, this is a cooking lesson after all. I know how you are with a fillet knife, but how do you feel about cutting…potatoes?" Killian dramatically reached in a bag to reveal a small sack of potatoes.

Emma smiled at his goofiness. "I think I can manage that," she laughed and joined Killian on the other side of the island, bringing her wine with her. "What do you want here? Cubes? Slices? I'm ready to slice and dice!" Emma did a little dance over the potatoes, and raised her eyebrows at him. "Cubes will be fine Swan," Killian grinned, and started mincing some garlic on the counter next to her.

"You seem to know your way around Mary Margaret's kitchen," Emma commented, following Killian's direction and dumping the potatoes into a boiling pot of water. "Aye, I've spent many a night cooking in this kitchen for her and David. Liam and I used to come over quite a bit too."

"I see," Emma smiled softly at him at the mention of his brother. He gave her a sad, crooked smile in return, "Actually love, it's nice to think back on the good times. I think," he paused for a second, collecting his thoughts, "I think maybe I dwell on the accident too much, when there are so many good memories from before. It's a shame to let those be squandered."

"That's a really good way to look at things," Emma touched his arm softly as she brushed by him to dump the rest of the potatoes in a big pot.

"So anyway, while I am letting these potatoes cook, and I've got this garlic sautéing, we have a cooking 'wait break'," Killian stated, and leaned on the island to stare at Emma, who had seated herself back at her barstool.

Emma looked at him skeptically. "Ok…what's a 'wait break'?" she asked. Killian grinned at her, and gestured to her with his wine glass. "We take a break from cooking, to wait for things _to_ cook, and you tell me about yourself."

"Déjà vu," Emma muttered, and Killian tilted his head to the side in question. "It's just that, Mary Margaret was asking me to tell her about myself last night too."

"Come on Swan, I hardly know anything about you and I spend at least eight hours a day with you. I'm quite fond of you so far, and at some point, even though we're quite different, you've got to trust me. I know we haven't known each other long, but I'll win you over. Probably with my delicious cooking." Killian lightened the mood with a waggle of his eyebrows, and a stir of the pot. He wasn't going to push her too hard, but he wanted to know more.

"Alright there Gordon Ramsey, settle down. I'll be the judge of that," Emma shook her head at the ridiculous man standing in front of her, bopping to a tune that no one but he could hear, while stirring the pots and pans in front of him.

"Love, can you turn on some music? I need some ambiance in this kitchen!" he asked her. "Um, sure… I'm sure Mary Margaret has some decent music in here somewhere." Emma got up from her stool, and wandered over to a stereo on a bookcase. Nothing big, but a little station with speakers, and a dock to plug an iPod into.

"Here Swan," Killian tossed his phone at her, and she caught it with ease, "Put on the playlist titled 'Cooking 1'…shuffle if you please." Emma stared at him with deadpanned disbelief. "You really have a cooking playlist?" she asked, clicking the phone into place and hitting the shuffle button.

"No, I have several," Killian smirked back at her, and music soon filled the loft. The speakers on the dock were small but powerful. Frank Sinatra's smooth voice crooned from the speakers, "There we go Swan!" Killian's grin spread across his face, and he dropped the spoon on the counter, making his way towards her playfully, his shoulders to the beat of the music.

Emma's eyes were as wide as a deer in the headlights. "Killian… Jones… I'm not dancing with you," she warned, as he swept his arms under her waist and lifted her up, twirling them around. Emma squealed as Killian put her back on the ground, grabbing her hand and whirling her in a circle.

"Yes you are," his eyes twinkled as he swung her about on the hardwood floors, and Emma couldn't help but smile at his goofy grin as he swayed her theatrically around the loft, before dipping her dramatically. "Come fly with me," he serenaded her as he pulled her back up. She laughed at his silliness as he spun her once more before making his way back to the kitchen, winking at her over his shoulder as he went back to the pan, simmering on the stove.

"Alright Swan, I'm almost done here. Care to set the table, and I'll throw the lobsters in the pot?" Killian announced a few minutes later, and Emma made quick work of Mary Margaret's little kitchen table, setting it up. Killian plated a beautiful lobster meal, with garlic mashed potatoes and a fresh salad, drizzled with his own secret dressing. "I'd tell you how I make it, but I'd have to kill you," he said with a smirk, before pulling out Emma's chair and gesturing for her to sit. Emma slipped in, and let him push in the chair, before he took the seat across from her. He had decanted the white from the fridge the he brought (Emma didn't even know Mary Margaret had a freaking decanter) and poured two fresh glasses for the pair of them.

"Dig in Swan," he gestured, and Emma shook her head at her plate, overwhelmed. She was so entertained during the dinner prep, that she had forgotten one thing. "This all looks wonderful Killian…I just…" words seemed to fail her, and an embarrassed look passed over her face.

"Emma, what is it?" Killian asked, suddenly concerned at the change of her mood.

She smiled sheepishly at him. "I've never had lobster before. I have no idea what to do with this?" She held up the whole lobster and looked at him with a shrug.

Killian burst out laughing, "Oh Swan, ok…we will do it together." He got up and shifted his plate to sit beside her at the table instead of across from her, and held up a pair of lobster crackers. "Follow my lead," he told her, as he pulled off a claw, and started breaking into it with the cracker.

* * *

An hour later, a very happy and full Emma was helping Killian clean up the kitchen. Lobster was work, but work that she didn't mind when it involved the amazing butter sauce Killian had concocted. Since there wasn't a dishwasher, Emma took to washing the dishes by hand, insisting since Killian cooked, while he took up the drying and putting away duties, since he knew where everything went in the kitchen better than Emma anyway.

When the last dish was put away, Killian pulled out a bottle of red from the bag. "Ok Swan, it's time for dessert and a _digestif_." Emma had a happy little buzz going from the wine at dinner, which was poured liberally with the lobster, but she hadn't had this much good food, or pleasant company, in such a long time she let her self enjoy it.

Pouring both of them glasses, he nodded towards the couch. "Mind if we sit back and relax a bit? I am exhausted after all that slaving away in the kitchen," Killian sighed dramatically. Emma bumped playfully into him with her hip on the way to the couch, "Hey now, I helped, so you don't get all the credit."

"Yes, Emma: the great cutter of potatoes!" he proclaimed, seating himself on the couch across from her. There was still space between the two of them, but the both sat facing each other, and Emma pulled her legs underneath her.

"I will take that title sir, and I will cherish it," she said with a giggle, and Killian smiled at her. "Really though, everything was amazing. I can see why David is so in love with your cooking."

Killian scratched nervously behind his ear, not taking compliments well. "Thank you Swan…I've really just picked up a thing here and there. Hopefully you _did_ learn something tonight, apart from showing off your potato skills."

"I did. I had a very good teacher," she smiled at him, taking a sip of her wine.

"Well," Killian reached into his pocket, "I hope the impression from dinner can carry over to dessert, because although I think I cook pretty well, I am a shite baker." He held out a packet of Peanut M&Ms. Emma bit back a laugh and shook her head softly, "My favorite Jones, how did you know?" she said gently, holding out her cupped hand for a few as he ripped the packet open.

"Actually, they do go well with this wine," Killian mused thoughtfully as he popped a few into his mouth. They both laughed, settling into quietly munching on the sweet treats.

"You know," Emma started as Killian handed her the last M&M, "I don't think I've ever had anyone give me the last candy left in the bag."

Killian looked shocked, "That's poor form Swan. You haven't kept good company then have you?"

Emma sighed deeply, "No, no I haven't really. I don't think I've ever had anyone cook for me before either, prior to you, and Mary Margaret that is." Killian's face softened, and he rested his head in his hand, propped up on the back of the couch. He stared at Emma, who seemed to be drifting into thoughts of the past. Killian was welcoming the returning good memories of Liam, but maybe Emma didn't have any good memories to muster to the forefront of her mind.

"No friend, or maybe more than a friend, that has ever done that for you?" he questioned, and Emma answered simply, "No, never." There was a pause in the air. "I've made some, maybe,,, not so good decisions in my past."

"That's not true Emma," Killian countered, breaking her out of her spell of remembrance. She looked at him with a puzzled face.

"You came into my shop love. That was a very good decision," he smiled at her, and reached out to brush the hair out of her face. Emma seemed to brace herself for his touch, tensing up. Killian's fingers were gentle, and brushed a blonde tendril behind her ear. He wanted to kiss her, but this wasn't the time. It was too soon, and he knew it. She relaxed as his fingers drifted down through the strands of hair, and she locked eyes with him, ever so subtly leaning her head towards his hand.

"Killian," Emma whispered, barely audible, "I'm a mess. There's so much about me that you don't know."

"Aye, I know nothing, but I want to, if you'll let me love."

Emma took a shaky breath in, slowly letting it out. "Patience?" she asked, mustering a sad half smile.

Killian brushed another lock of hair back behind her ear, "I've got all the time in the world love."


	8. Chapter 8

"My love, my darling, how wonderful for you to grace my humble abode again!" Marco rushed to Emma's side, kissing her on both cheeks and squeezing her arm, "Killian my lad, you have brought this beauty back to me!"

"Aye," Killian nodded, grinning at Emma, "and I have also brought you this herring, although I am not sure how well you will fare with your lobster pots and this storm coming. I'm just going to put these in the back."

"Storm?" Emma questioned, looking at Killian as he walked towards the cooler.

Marco linked arms with her and guided her to the barstool. "Now now my dear, just a little storm. We don't get the big ones up here like our friends in the south. I wouldn't worry. Just a little rain. Now, I have something special for _you_ this week."

Marco pulled from beneath the bar a dusted bottle of wine. Emma's face shifted from concern to adoration. "Marco…what is this?"

Marco leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Don't tell Killian, but I myself love a good glass of wine over rum any day. It'll break his heart."

Killian was suddenly nose-to-nose with both of them, leaning over Emma to join the huddle. "It's too late! I know old man. The jig is up!" he grinned, and Marco held his hand over his heart dramatically.

"Killian, you wound me with your words!" he exclaimed, only to slide into a sly smile, matching Killian's.

Emma grinned at them both. Silly men… with such adoration for each other. Marco poured Emma a glass of wine, and went to reach for the rum for Killian. Killian shook his head at the older man. "Not today Marco," he spoke, pulling a bottle of water from his pocket and taking a swing, before checking his phone. Emma and Marco stared at him.

"What?" Marco asked, standing in stunned silence with a bottle of rum in his hand. Killian frowned at his phone before turning it to face Marco and Emma. "This is why…we have to get home after that glass love."

Emma was in shock at the large storm on the screen of his phone. The hurricane brewed over the Atlantic, even in mid-October, and Emma stuttered, taking a deeper gulp of her wine.

"I'll just finish this quickly," she spoke, taking another swing.

"Emma," Killian rested his hand on her arm, lowering the glass, "take your time love. We have time. I just have much to do tonight to prep for the storm, so I need to be alert. We have time for you to enjoy that exquisite glass of cab. I am just going to go and check around the outside of the building, make sure everything is locked down."

"Killian, everything will be fine. This building has been here for a long time, and it will continue to be here a long time. I shall hunker down upstairs, and all shall be fine, and I will see you and your beautiful companion next week," The old man smiled at him, wiping down the counters in his own obsessive way.

Killian touched Emma's back gently before gesturing with his head that he was going to continue on his way outside to check around the building. "I'll keep him occupied," Emma spoke softly, as he rubbed her back gently a few times, before heading out to the docks.

"I have sensed things have changed between you two," Marco commented, continuing to tidy up behind the bar. Emma turned back to him, after watching Killian walk out the door. "I have no idea what you're talking about," Emma stated with cool composure, and Marco nodded knowingly. "Of course, of course," he all but beamed at her, and Emma blushed into her wine. Nothing had really happened since the talk on the couch several days ago, but it didn't mean that there weren't more things like subtle back touches and raised eyebrows, and Emma felt herself becoming more and more comfortable with the handsome, accented man.

She glanced back over her shoulder at Killian, who was carrying lobster pots across the dock, and stacking them against the side of the building. The large glass windows on the front of the pub made it easy to keep on eye on him. The wind has started kicking up, and his bangs blew widely around across his forehead. Emma let out a little sigh, and Marco chuckled behind her, bringing her back to reality.

"You know, there are worse people to fall in love with," he commented to her casually, and leaned his back against the wall, staring at her pointedly.

"Whoa!" Emma startled at his comment, putting her wine down, "I am not in love. I don't do love number one… and number two, just…but… just, no. It's nowhere near that level of anything. If it even is anything! I don't think it even is anything. I mean…"

Marco smiled kindly at her, with the corner of his eyes crinkling. "Oh believe me, it's something." Emma looked at him wide eyed, and he walked to her, picking up her hand and holding it gently in both of his. "Emma, you are so scared. And something must have happened to make you so scared. But you mustn't be. Killian… he will love you, if he doesn't already. I know these things because I am old and wise beyond my years." He winked at Emma, and she smiled meekly at him. "It is ok to let go, and let yourself be loved. Life is short, and we must embrace the good things that come into our lives. Like this handsome man who has saved me once again….come here my friend!" Marco shifted the conversation like a pro as Killian entered back into the small pub, shaking rain droplets from his hair.

"My boy…you are soaked! Come come, I shall get you a towel!" Marco exclaimed, gesturing to Killian to come behind the bar. Grabbing a dry bar towel, he proceeded to tussle dry Killian's head of hair.

Killian emerged from under the towel moments later, hair sticking up in a hundred different directions and looking quite disheveled. Emma snorted into her glass, and Killian waggled his eyebrows at her. "What's wrong love? Are you suddenly finding me even more irresistible than usual?"

Emma pointed to the mirror behind the bar with a grin, and Killian caught sight of his reflection, frowning suddenly and combing at his hair with his fingers. "Bloody hell," he muttered, taming his sudden unruly mane.

The wind took the next moment to howl outside the door, and all three of them turned to look at the water outside, which had suddenly turned gray and stormy. Killian's frown deepened.

"Love, I think we need to get on the road," he locked eyes with Emma and she nodded, hopping off her barstool. Marco made a move to cork the bottle and send it with her.

"Keep it Marco. I'll have another glass when I am here next, if that is ok?"

"Emma my dear, you are welcome here, always. Killian, you've done too much! I told you not to work outside…now you are going to have to drive back in the storm," Marco fussed over him, but Killian just wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "No my friend, I need this pub here for many years to come. You included. So if I can help secure this place for you, I will do so gladly and with vigor." He patted the older man on the back before Marco grabbed both of his cheeks and kissed him with enthusiasm on each side, before patting his a cheek affectionately.

"You are such a saint. Now, get out of here and leave an old man in peace," he smacked Killian's butt as he went to Emma, and Killian's eyebrows rose in surprise, and then softened as Emma held back her chuckles.

"Marco," she embraced the older man, "You were as lovely as last time. I look forward to next week!" Killian watched his oldest friend embrace Emma, and whisper something in her ear, before patting her arm and sending her to Killian.

Killian didn't bring it up until they were in the truck halfway back to Storybrooke. "What did Marco whisper in your ear?"

Emma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged in a nonchalant way. "I don't remember," she said, crossing her legs and fixing her eyes on the water as they drove.

"Liar," Killian said in a sing-song voice, and Emma's head whipped around to look at him.

"You're lying. I can tell. It's ok…but you know what he told you," Killian was matter-of-fact. He raised his eyebrow in his knowing way. Emma studied his profile for a few moments, before looking back out the window with a little huff.

The rain was beginning to come in in sheets when Killian and Emma pulled up in front of the little seafood shop. Scurrying inside, Killian moved stuff around in the office to pull out large sheets of wood, and Emma grabbed the edges, helping him guide it outside. Directing Emma back inside to grab a hammer and nails, they worked to cover the glass of the store windows. Most of the little businesses in Storybrooke had storm shutters in place by the time they got back, and both of them were drenched once they had secured the boards, and brought in the coolers from their trip.

"Lemme give you a ride home," Killian offered, as Emma shook her headslightly, ringing her hair out before stepping into the store.

"Nah I'll be fine. It's just a little rain," she smiled, shaking off water a little more.

"I insist," Killian countered, going into the back and grabbing an old yellow rain slicker. "Come on," he said, gesturing for her to grab the jacket.

"I'm really just going to walk," she stated again, but taking the jacket anyway, "Plus now I have this, so I'll be dry."

Killian sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Emma stop being so stubborn and get in the damn truck," he stated firmly. Emma paused, before dashing in the rain towards the truck.

Killian smirked, and walked around the truck to the driver's side and climbed in. "See? Painless _and_ dry." Emma made a little huffing noise under her breath, and Killian chuckled, shifting the truck into gear and sputtering towards the loft she shared with Mary Margaret.

It really was only about a half a mile away, but he felt better about not letting her walk in the rain. Emma thanked Killian quickly, told him she'd see him tomorrow, and jumped from the cab, darting into the loft building. Killian frowned...if this weather kept up, and the storm slowed down like expected, there would be no work tomorrow for sure. He'd have to call Mary Margaret and tell her to tell Emma.

* * *

Sure enough, the storm slowed down, and decided to plant itself over the coast of Maine. Emma looked out the window and jumped back as the wind blew a heavy sheet of rain right at the window. The power flickered again, and she frowned, glancing up at the lights, and becoming a little nervous.

Mary Margaret had left shortly after Emma arrived home the night before, to stay at David's. She had invited Emma, citing the fact she didn't have to work tomorrow per Killian's phone call, but Emma had opted to stay back, saying it was just a little rain. As she watched an empty trashcan blow across the street, violently toppling around, she seconded guessed her choice. The cable went out hours ago, and without a cell phone, she didn't really have a way to call anyone if something did happen.

There was a sudden loud banging on the door, and Emma jumped again. Being a jumpy spaz was clearly the theme of the day.

"Who is it?" Emma called, and Killian's voice came from the other side of the door. "It's me Swan, open up!" Killian's voice was demanding, and Emma opened the front door with confusion on her face. "Um, what's going on?

"Are you ok?" Killian asked, concern written all over his face.

"Of course," Emma said, closing the door behind him as he barged into the apartment, "Is that why you're here?"

Killian ran his hands through his hair, "Well, I called Mary Margaret to check on the two of you, and she said that you were here and she was with David. And you don't have a phone. And power is out around most of the town…" Just then the room plunged into darkness. Killian's head fell forward in defeat, "Make that the whole town."

"You were worried about me?" Emma asked, suddenly, trying to understand why Killian was babbling with frustration in the middle of the loft, pacing about.

Killian looked up in surprise, "Of course Swan. I don't just roam around the town, knocking on doors and checking on everyone. I _was_ worried about you."

"Oh," Emma said softly.

"You need a cell phone Swan," Killian muttered, and went to the door to leave.

Emma shook her head in confusion, "Wait, and now you're leaving just like that?"

"As much as I would love to stay here and sit in darkness with you," he smirked slightly to himself at that admission, "I want to go check on Marco."

"Does he not have a phone either?" Emma asked, tone light.

Killian frowned, "Yes, he does, and he's not answering. The lines are dead up there… and I just, I'm too worried to sit around down here and wait for this storm to pass. I need to make sure he's ok." Killian fidgeted around, anxiety and worry crossing his features.

"You don't think he will be ok until this storm passes," Emma asked, touching his arm softly.

Killian let out a shaky sigh, "Aye he probably will, but…I'd rather not take a chance." There was a beat in the conversation. "I lost Liam in a storm like this," Killian whispered, barely audible.

Emma squeezed his arm softly, nodded her head once, and grabbed the yellow rain slicker he had given her the prior day, "Alright, I'm coming with you."

"No Swan, you're going to stay safe right here," Killian all but commanded and opened the door to leave. "The hell I am," Emma swung back, grabbing the door before it closed and following quickly behind him down the stairs.

"Emma, stay here," Killian warned as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "No," said Emma firmly, following Killian out into the rain.

"Emma!" Killian yelled sharply, turning and pushing her back against the wall as a branch flew by, barely missing the two of them. They locked eyes, both of them breathless. The rain poured down in waves, soaking them. Nose to nose they both hesitated, Killian's hands pressed against the brick wall, on either side of her head, in an aggressively protective stance.

"Stay here," he growled, lips almost ghosting against hers.

"Killian..." she muttered against him in frustration. One move of her head, and his lips would be on hers. The wind howled in their ears, and whipped her wet hair around. She could feel his heart beating against her chest as his eyes searched hers, and he brought a hand to her cheek. A slow smile spread across her face, and she leaned forward just a inch more, pressing her body even more firmly against his. "...stop…" she started, softly, "…being so stubborn and get in the damn truck." The rest of the sentence came out swiftly, as Emma ducked quickly under Killian's other arm, still braced against the wall, and slid into the passenger seat of the truck, buckling her seatbelt and crossing her arms in defiance.

"Bloody stubborn woman," Killian growled loudly, storming to the other side of the cab and getting in, angrily clicking his seat belt into place, and turning the key. The engine turned over and roared to life.

"I'm 100% against you coming with me," he said through gritted teeth.

"I know," Emma said, in a sing-song voice.

'I would rather you stay where I know your safe," he looked at her in the eye.

"I'm safe with you," Emma stated clearly, looking at him in return with complete trust. Killian's jaw clenched, and he shifted the truck into gear, pulling out from the front of the loft apartment.

* * *

Marco was 100% fine. Killian burst dramatically into the pub after an hour and a half white knuckle drive in silence to find Marco sitting alone at his bar sipping on wine. More specifically, the wine he had bought Emma.

"Gracious Killian! Not that I am complaining of you bringing me this blonde haired angle twice in 48 hours, but there's a hurricane outside!" Killian made two quick strides to Marco and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing his eyes shut. Emma stood quietly in the doorway, and watched Marco return the hug.

"It's ok lad. I was worried about you too," Marco said softly, rubbing his back. Emma felt like she was intruding on a moment, and backed out of the frame. She stood in the small hallway connecting the front door to the bar, and listened to the quiet voices coming from the room.

"I need to get you a cell phone. And Emma. Both of you," Killian seemed to scold him, but his voice sounded broken.

Marco chuckled softly, "What makes you think that will work out here when the land lines go out? I live in the middle of nowhere in Maine anyway Killian. I think I'd have better luck with a cellphone back in the Italia."

"This was too…this hit too close to home," Killian's voice sounded exhausted, broken.

"Now, now…I'm fine, and it wasn't like last time. You shouldn't have driven up here in such weather," Marco _did_ scold Killian back.

"I had to," Killian replied, simply, as if there was no other option.

Emma couldn't see them, but through the silence that followed Killian's statement, but she heard a choked sob come from the room, and her heart broke just a bit. She slid down the wall and pulled her knees to her chest as a chill passed through her.

"Killian, it's ok. Take a deep breath… there you go," Marco's soothing voice came from the bar, "I hope you know that you're not going anywhere now that you're here. So go upstairs, and find some dry clothes for you and Emma, and come back down here. We're having a hurricane party since you can't seem to stay away from me this week."

"Emma?" came Marco's voice a few minutes later, looking around the hallway before her subtle movement drew his eye down. "What are you doing down here?" he laughed light heartedly at her, before helping her to her feet. "You're freezing!" he exclaimed, as she got to her feet, and he felt the cold of her hands.

"I sent Killian upstairs for clothes for the both of you, but you need to go towel off. Your hair is soaked still! Did that man not even turn the heat on during the drive here? What shall I do with him?" Marco babbled on, escorting Emma to a flight of stairs behind the back of the bar. She hadn't realized how cold she was, until she realized she had started shivering. "Go upstairs Emma, Killian will be in the second room on the left."

Emma climbed the stairs and made her way to the room. "Killian?" her voice was soft and wobbly from the cold tremors passing through her body. She pushed the door open gently, and saw Killian seated on the bed, wet shirt on the floor, head in his hands. He looked at Emma as the door creaked open, and ran his hands across his face quickly, pulling himself from his thoughts.

"I'm sorry to bother you… it's just, I am a bit cold and…" Emma said through chattering teeth, and that seemed to kick Killian into high gear. He rose from the bed, and pulled her into the room.

"Bloody hell love, you're freezing. I'm sorry…I wasn't thinking…" his fingers went to the buttons on her shirt, unbuttoning them quickly, and pushing the shirt off her shoulders, before grabbing a dry towel from the bed and wrapping her in it. Emma was too cold to be shy, and her shivering fingers grasped at the button on her jeans, before sliding them with some difficulty down her legs.

Standing in front of Killian in nothing but her semi-damp underwear and a towel, she looked up at him. Killian held a large, massive flannel shirt in his hands, and he commanded Emma to lift her arms up. She did as instructed, and he dropped it over her head. It swallowed her like an oversized dress, and she slipped her bra off, before dropping her underwear to the floor as well. She was feeling warmer just being out of the wet clothing.

"Better?" he asked, concern etched over his face. He handed Emma a pair of boxers with Christmas trees on them, and turned towards the wall while she pulled them on.

"Good," Emma said softly, and he turned back around. Grabbing the towel from the floor, he reached up and covered her head, ruffling it around her scalp to dry her head. She let out a little squeak before giggling, and Killian tossed the towel to the side grinning.

Emma suddenly realized she was standing in a dark room, with a half-naked Killian Jones, and she was wearing his underwear, and a half buttoned flannel. She knew she should feel self-conscious, but she didn't. She felt warm, and looking into Killian's eyes, she felt wanted too.

"Killian, are you ok?" she asked softly, taking a step closer to him. He nodded and took another small step towards her, licking his lips. "Aye Swan, I am," his voice dropped a bit, and wandered over the exposed skin of her collarbone. His hand reached up and lightly slid over the skin, before traveling up her neck, and resting on the side of her face.

"I'm sorry that I drug you out here," he whispered.

Emma moved her check against his hand, closing her eyes as his thumb stroked her cheek. "I'm not, " she murmured, " I wanted to come with you."

"I can have a bit of a one track mind sometimes," Killian inched closer to her. Emma's hand reached out and tentatively touched his waist, causing a hitch in Killian's breath.

"I've noticed," Emma responded, and as her hand began to snake up his chest, his thumb brushed over her bottom lip. His chest was firm beneath her hands, and she watched the way his muscles tensed under her fingertips before looking back up into Killian's eyes.

"Emma, I'm going to kiss you now," Killian spoke barely above a whisper, and as he pulled her towards him, his lips met hers for the first time.


	9. Chapter 9

Emma had never had never been kissed the way Killian Jones kissed her.

The first kiss was a mere featherweight touch of skin on skin, lips barely touching, and both of their hands stilled.

The second was tentative, cautious, and Emma's breath hitched.

The third touch of their lips was the drag of a match head on a striker. The flames lit suddenly, jumping up and to life. Killian's lips pressed to Emma's, and suddenly she was against the wall. Instead of his hands planted on either side of her head, like earlier in the day, his fingers buried in her hair, tilting her head for deeper access. Her hands wrapped around his back, and her fingers dug into his flexing muscles. One of Killian's hands stayed intertwined in her hair, the other dropping down to firmly caress her face. Killian moaned into her mouth and pressed his body against hers, flush. She could feel him rut against her gently on pure instinct, before he pulled back, hand on either side of her face. His eyes bore into her soul, dark with lust. Emma bit her lip and tried to catch her breath, hands wandering to the waistband of his pants.

Killian's stare was enough to drive anyone mad, and after a few seconds of staring into his darkening eyes, she grabbed his belt loops and pulled him back to her. The kisses were frantic and intense. He reached down and pulled her legs around his waist, lifting her up and walking towards the small bed in the corner of the room. Their lips worked out a frantic rhythm as the both of them tumbled to the bed. The loud protest of the ancient springs knocked them both from their trance.

The mattress beneath them squeaked and squawked as they both bounced on to it from their fall, and the duo burst into giggles. Killian rolled from on top of Emma to his side, and laughed heartily, leaning his head into Emma's shoulder as his body shook with laughter.

"Christ, how old is this bed?" Emma managed to ask between giggles. Killian took a deep breath and rolled over, clutching his chest. "I have no bloody idea, but good god, I didn't know a bed could make a sound like that."

The giggles tapered off, the room growing quiet, before Killian suddenly bounced the bed up and down with his body, floundering from side to side, in order to hear the bed protest once more, and the loud racket echoed through the room. The pair burst into laughter again, before hearing a loud thumping from below.

"You two better be behaving," Marco called from down below, and Killian muttered a "Yes dad," before grinning at Emma, and dipping his head down to nuzzle her shoulder with his nose.

"We should probably go back downstairs. I don't know about you, but I could use a drink. I don't fancy driving back in this storm tonight, if that's ok?" Killian asked Emma, running his hand up her arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I think that would be just fine," Emma smiled at him. It was easy to pretend this was natural, and wasn't happening too fast. She could be scared, but tonight, she wasn't. It felt right here. With Killian. In this tiny pub. On this squeaky bed.

"But," Emma started as Killian went to get off the bed, "Maybe I can have some pants first before we head downstairs?"

Killian tensed at her hesitation, but then relaxed when he heard her request. "Of course love," he grinned at her, helping her from the bed, "but the choices are limited."

* * *

Emma and Killian joined Marco a few minutes later, Emma sporting the same flannel shirt, and as a new addition, the only pants Killian could find her were red fleece pants, with bright Christmas trees and reindeer splattered amongst the print.

"Well well, aren't you just the seasonal vision?" Marco teased her as they entered the room.

"It was this or nothing Marco!" Emma laughed, throwing her hands up. Marco raised an eyebrow and looked at Killian who raised one as well at Emma's statement.

"I think I know which one I would have preferred," Killian said softly in her ear.

Emma smirked, before pushing his shoulder slightly in jest. "Yeah, I think these were the best bet too," she retorted.

Marco rolled his eyes at the two of them, "Well if the two of you are done flirting and kissing, let's have some drinks, dinner and enjoy this hurricane together."

"We weren't kissing," Killian and Emma responded in unison, before glancing quickly at each other.

"Oh ok sure. Well, Killian, can you wipe that shade of pink off your lips before you help me in the kitchen? I always thought you were more of a burgundy color man myself. Emma, you're in charge of wine. Raid the cabinet…we're making meatballs," Marco said with a wink, and headed to the small kitchen in the back of the pub. Killian's eyes got big and he wiped his hand across the back of his mouth, and Emma laughed at him.

She walked up to him, grabbing his shirttail with a gentle tug and pulled his head closer to hers. "I don't wear lipstick Killian. He's fucking with you," she smiled at him at Killian frowned slightly, before a grin spread over his face. "In that case…" he purred and leaned towards her for a kiss.

"KILLIAN I SAID NO KISSING," Marco called from the kitchen, and Killian growled. "How can he even see me out here? I swear, that man is bloody psychic!" Emma smiled at him, before gesturing to the kitchen with a nod of her head.

"You better get going…" she warned, and Killian kissed her forehead before following the sound of Italian curses coming from the kitchen.

Emma couldn't wipe the grin off her face as she bustled around the pub's bar, pouring wine and listening to the two men playfully chatter in the kitchen.

"Settle down old man, you know I would never use garlic powder. Fresh garlic only…I know I know, you taught me well," she heard Killian's weary voice as Marco bossed him around.

"I should say so…took you long enough to learn how to make these the first time. It looks like you've gotten rusty. What kind of mincing is that boy!"

"You know what… this is perfectly good mincing. Maybe your eyesight is getting a little blurry. Do I need to make an appointment for you at the doctor?" Emma heard Killian's question answered by a popping sound.

"Did you really just spank me with that wooden spoon?" Killian asked as Emma made her way into the kitchen with three glasses and a bottle tucked under her arm.

Marco smiled, taking the wine bottle from her, and turning back to Killian with a waggle of the spoon, "And I'll do it again you scoundrel. Mince like you mean it!"

"Can I do anything?" Emma asked, as she poured wine into glasses for them. Killian took his glass from her with a lingering graze of fingers on her wrist, whereas Marco took his with great enthusiasm.

"Absolutely!" Marco exclaimed, and patted an open spot of the stainless steel kitchen counter. "I need you to sit up here and be my taste-tester. Killian seems to have lost all his cooking skills!"

Killian shook his head and turned around to face Emma, who had gladly perched on the counter, wine glass in hand. "I think the man is just getting senile in his old age. Taste this seasoning… it's perfection," Killian joked, and placing a pinch of the mixture he had been creating into her open palm. Using a finger to taste some, Emma's eyes closed as she contemplated the seasonings. "Heavenly," she critiqued, and Marco huffed in disapproval. He bumped Killian away with his hip, and added a few more herbs and zests into Killian's mixture, before offering Emma a second taste.

Emma tried Marco's selection before turning to Killian with a look of complete seriousness on her face. "He wins," she deadpanned, and Marco made a noise of smug satisfaction, turning back to the bubbling sauce on the stove. Killian's face was full of mock hurt, and Emma mouthed a "Sorry" to him before shrugging, and smiling through a sip of wine.

* * *

By the time the trio sat down for dinner, all of them had snacked their way through the kitchen for the past few hours. Killian explained through an alternating doting/scolding Marco, that cooking with him was always like this. _Try this cheese. What do you think of this spice? Sample the sauce._

Emma had never had such a collaborative kitchen experience, and it was often what she thought of when she imagined a family in a kitchen. By the time they sat down to eat, they were all several glasses of wine in, and had a feast of cheeses, bread, meatballs, pasta (of course) and they had broken out more of Marco's expensive and vintage wine. As they dug in, Marco told tales of growing up in Italy, and his first cooking lessons. Killian told stories of the shite food he had in England growing up, though Emma thought he spoke rather fondly of the meat pies. There was laughter, candlelight, and it was probably the best dinner Emma had had in a very long time.

The conversation crept into the evening hours, and Marco had turned on an old jukebox in the corner of the pub. Soft music had piped through the room, and at one point, Marco had stood valiantly, and held out his hand. "May I have this dance?" he asked Emma, with a little sway in his step from the wine, but the ever present twinkle in his eye.

Rosemary Clooney's voice filled the room, and Emma placed her hand in his, and with another hand on her waist, Marco sat the pace of a jaunty swing. He danced with ease around the coffee tables, and twirled Emma a few times.

"My wife loved this song," Marco smiled at her, with a twinge of sadness in his eyes.

"I didn't know you were married," Emma said, giving his hand a sympathetic squeeze.

Marco smiled, "I was, and she was the best gal in the world." He spun Emma again, and let her down in a little dip, "You would have loved her. Strong, stubborn … like you are I'd imagine."

Emma tilted her head back and let a laugh out at his statement of her, "Yes, that is true," she laughed. Killian sat back and his eyes sparkled at the small Italian man, with quite the wine buzz, twirling the blonde around the room. The very beautiful woman who he had kissed today. And all he had thought about since then was kissing her again.

Killian rose from his chair as the song ended, and approached the two dancers. "May I cut in?" he asked, and Marco placed her hand in Killian's, before heading back to the table. Grabbing a half opened bottle of wine, he gestured to Killian and Emma. "I'm off to bed you young people, filled with your youngness. Enjoy yourselves, drink wine and dance, and be young," Marco attempted to say in the most poignant way, but it just incited giggles from Emma and a shaking of Killian's head.

Emma sighed as Killian began to dance with her around the room. Bobby Darin's "Beyond the Sea" clicked on, and Killian's hand tightened on her waist as he whisked her around.

Emma's soft curls bounced to the beat, and Killian's eyes crinkled with joy as he led her about. "I know…beyond a doubt…my heart will lead me there soon…" Killian crooned softly in her ear as he spun her, before dramatically dipping her at the swell of the trumpets in the song. He waggled his eyebrows at her, and Emma let out a laugh as he brought her back up. Killian pulled her closer and swayed her softly. His cheek rested against hers, and her feet kept up with his experienced quick steps.

"We'll kiss just as before, happy we'll be beyond the sea, and never again I'll go sailing…" forehead to forehead Killian sang softly to her as the big band faded into the background, and the record clicked off. The stood swaying to the sound of the rain beating on the glass, and Killian leaned down and gently kissed her, before the next record loaded itself. Emma smiled against his lips as the next sound started.

"Oh no…" she groaned as Killian's grin extended beyond hers. "Come on Swan, you know you love this song," he teased her as the first notes to 'Hungry Eyes' piped through the static filled speakers. Pushing her arm up a little he put on his best Johnny voice "This is my dance space, this is your dance space, ok…" and started moving Emma to the beat that came through.

"Don't have spaghetti arms," he warned her, smiling at her with cheese, and she rolled her eyes, but kept the rhythm with him. He threw in a few twists and iconic movie moves, and she responded in turn, twisting on her toes, and despite the wine they had consumed, keeping perfect step with his "rumba". His eyebrow cocked in surprise. "Why Swan, aren't you just full of surprises?"

Emma smirked at him, keeping her frame, and spinning back into him. He lifted her left hand up and let his fingertips slide down her side. Instead of breaking into giggles, she sighed against him, before taking his hand, and after a quick kiss on the nose, he spun her back out. Both of them were grinning, and as the song ended, they both burst into giggles, collapsing into their dinner chairs. "Good form Swan!" Killian complimented, chuckling, and having another sip of wine, "Where did you learn how to dance?"

She blushed at his compliment, before shrugging it off, "Actually, the second foster home I was at…before they got rid of me, they let me pick one activity to do after school. I chose ballroom dancing. I was quite cute for the few years that I had a chance to do it. I almost took home a state title once." Killian shook his head in disbelief. "Full of surprises," he muttered, choosing to gloss over the foster family being brought up, and focus on the positive.

"And you?" she asked, leaning back in her chair. "Ah, well my mother loved to dance, and when Liam and I were young, evenings were filled with my mother and father dancing in the living room. And Liam and I would occasionally cut in, and steal a dance or two from mother, and she insisted that we learned correctly. "

"Well I am quite impressed," she complimented him back, and he scratched behind his ear nervously. Emma yawned a little, the lateness of the evening settling in, and put her glass down. Killian stood up and held his hand out, "Let's go to bed Swan."

She smiled up at him before lacing her fingers with his and allowing him to guide her upstairs. The jukebox played on as Killian lead them from the room. He smiled at the song, and gave Emma's hand a little squeeze.

The duo climbed the stairs to the room they had been in earlier. It was late, and the rain was still coming down in sheets that slapped against the window. Emma yawned again, and Killian smiled softly at her. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and pulled back the covers, climbing in, and patting the bed beside him. Emma hesitated, and he cocked his head to the side, reassuring her in his way. "Just sleeping Swan, I promise."

Emma sighed, and crawled into bed next to him. There was an awkward pause for a second, not knowing how to make the other comfortable. Killian slid his arm up above the pillow, and looked at Emma, offering a silent invitation for her to tuck herself in at his side. She hesitated, once more, before resting her head on his chest, and taking a deep breath, finally letting her body relax. Killian stroked her hair softly until he heard her breath steady, and he knew she was asleep. Only then, did he let himself shut his eyes, and welcome slumber.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback! I love hearing from everyone who is enjoying the story!**

* * *

The room was a dusty blue when Emma opened her eyes the next day. Clouds still hung heavy in the sky, but the rain was a mere 'pitter-patter' against the window, and from where she could see in the bed, it looked like the worst had past. Killian was snoring softly beside her, hand slung over her side, and Emma slipped silently out from under his arm without waking him, to become a bit more of a human being first thing in the morning.

Emma caught a glance of herself in the mirror on the way out of the bathroom, and let out a little gasp. She hadn't looked this… this herself in a long time. The hollows in her face had filled in, the natural blush was back in her cheeks, and the circles under her eyes were gone. Not only did she look like herself, she was feeling like her old self too. With a small smile now in place, Emma went back to the comfort of the bed.

Killian was right where she left him, and she smiled at his snoring form. She slipped off the fleece PJ bottoms (they were quite hot now), and slid back into bed next to him, wearing just the oversized flannel shirt. Killian stirred at the movement, and snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her to him like a teddy bear. Emma froze, but then his steady breathing kicked back in, and Emma relaxed, twisting slowly to allow him to spoon her, her back to his front. Killian snuggled in deeper to the back of her neck, and inhaled the scent of her hair, letting out a small, wistful sigh in his sleep.

Emma smiled at the sound, and scooted backwards into Killian a bit more, snuggling in. The next noise was not a sigh. It was a soft, pained moaned.

"Emma?" Killian whispered softly into her hair, before brushing her neck with his cheek.

"Yes?" Emma answered, shifting her hips slightly to get a small hitch in Killian's breath.

He swallowed deeply, "Where are your pants?"

"Why, do you miss them?" Emma whispered back, smug smirk spreading across her face.

Killian groaned and pressed against her backside. She could feel him quite clearly through his pajama pants. "Does it _feel_ like I do?" Killian mumbled through gritted teeth. Emma smirked again, and Killian's hand that was slung over her started drifting downwards, settling on her hip. His fingers alternated pressure against her hipbone as he began to pepper her neck slowly with soft kisses. Emma parted her lips and let out a content sigh as his scruff brushed against her skin with each kiss, and Killian pulled her firmly back against him.

He moved his hips against her backside, and his hand snaked just into the edge of her underwear line. Emma moaned… and Killian cursed against her skin. "I'm having a hard time being a gentleman here Emma. In fact…I'm pretty sure this is skirting the zone of ungentlemanly like behavior." He nipped along her collarbone.

"Then don't be one," Emma coyly suggested. Killian stilled for a moment, resting his forehead against her hair and taking a deep breath.

"Fuck it," he mumbled, and quick as lightening, flipped Emma over to her back and kissed her. She moaned into his mouth, wrapping a bare leg around his, and grinding up into him. Emma's nails ran through his morning bed head, and Killian growled as he pulled away from her, and buried his head in her neck, sucking on the skin behind her ear. His right hand drifted down her body, and pushed her leg to the side.

"Emma, tell me to stop at any point if you…" he started to say, before he was cut off by Emma's mouth on his again. She pulled back and looked in his eyes, before kissing him again. His hand slipped beneath her underwear, and found her more than wanting. As he stroked his fingers delicately across her for the first time, Emma let out whimper, and squirmed underneath his touch. Killian chuckled softly, and kissed her lips once more, then moved his lips across her jaw line, as he began to slowly stroke his fingers at her most sensitive point.

"Killian," Emma whispered, arching her back and letting out soft moans. "God you're beautiful," Killian whispered back against her skin, and smiled as he could feel the tension in Emma's body building, and the slight quiver beneath him start.

"Good girl, let go…" Killian spoke softly, coaxing her release, and with a gasp, Emma's body tensed and she threw her head back. Killian kissed her neck frantically, helping her ride out her release as she fell apart.

It took a few minutes for Emma to catch her breath, and Killian laid by her side, running his hand slowly and gently over her body until she opened her eyes again and looked at him. "Killian Jones… I'm in trouble with you."

Killian quirked an eyebrow at her, before reaching down and kissing her softly. "It is I, in fact, who is in trouble." He made a move to deepen the kiss when the thumping sound of Marco's broom from downstairs echoed through the room. Killian groaned into Emma's shoulder and she broke into giggles.

"There are eggs! I have made eggs. Get. Up!" Came the strong Italian accent from below.

"I suppose we should head down to suppress the man's impatience," Killian gritted out, still tucked into the nook between Emma's head and shoulder.

Emma stroked the hair on the nape of his neck. "I suppose, although this morning's activities were a bit one sided." She blushed as Killian propped himself back up on his arm, and caressed her cheek.

"Nonsense love, I would do that 100 more times just to watch you fall apart like that for me," he smiled down at her, and Emma dropped her eyes, blushing even more. Killian caught her under her chin, and brought her head and eyes back up to his, and kissed her once more. The thumping sound came again from the floorboards.

Killian shook his head, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and stomping them on the floor like a petulant child. "We're coming down for Christ's sake old man!" One more thump from below answered Killian's rapid stomping, and he rolled his eyes before standing up and stretching, holding his hand out to Emma.

"M'Lady?" he offered, helping her from the bed, before wrapping his arms around her once more. They stood in silence for a few more moments, before the sound of Marco's broomstick once again interrupted.

"I'm going to kill that man," Killian grumbled before yelling out again, "I SAID WE'D BE RIGHT THERE!"

* * *

A few hours later, and with full bellies, Emma and Killian were back on the road towards Storybrooke. Marco had packed them lunch, but they made great time, and were back in town before lunch hours. Most of the stores were still closed, so Killian dropped Emma at the loft, insisting she take the packed lunch for her and Mary Margaret. "I'm still stuffed from breakfast love. The two of you enjoy though. And perhaps I'll see you later?"

Emma smiled at him, leaning on the driver's side door, and gazing into Killian's blue eyes. "I'll swing by the afternoon. Maybe we can open for a few hours, see if there's an evening rush?"

"I'd like nothing more," Killian reached for her hand, and kissed it, before waggling his eyebrows and shifting the truck into gear. Emma watched him head down the street, and practically skipped inside like a teenager. Mary Margaret was sitting at the kitchen island when Emma entered.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret exclaimed when she walked in, and bustled over, embracing her in a hug. "David and I were so worried about you and Killian!" Emma felt guilt creep over her for not letting Mary Margaret know…even with a note. "Sorry about that, it was sort of a quick decision."

Mary Margaret seemed content with that answer, "Well, as long as you two are ok."

Emma smirked to herself, "Oh yeah, we're ok," she said more to herself.

"Oh?" Mary Margaret quirked her head to the side, as Emma winced at the questioning tone. She put lunch down on the counter, and turned to face Mary Margaret, who still stood with a confused look on her face. Emma couldn't wipe the smile of guilt from her face, and just kind of shrugged. "Yeah…." she started to explain, and Mary Margaret's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh. OH. OHHHHHH….." she exclaimed, and Emma could have sworn it was Christmas for the woman. She scurried over to the counter and perched on her chair. "Tell me everything. Right away…I want all the details. Was there a kiss?"

Emma blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She'd never really had a girlfriend before to gush to, and she wasn't sure how to go about it, but suddenly, it was just flowing out of her.

"Mary Margaret, I had no idea… no idea men like Killian existed. He's just… dashing, well-rounded, and the kisses…my god…the man should be arrested for kissing me like that. And he dances! I mean, who actually dances anymore? Like…properly dances. But he does, and we danced, and we kissed, and then this morning…"

Mary Margaret sat forward in her chair, clutching her teacup between her hands, "This morning what?"

Emma smiled wide and bit her bottom lip. "I just… I'm in trouble with this one Mary Margaret. I'm in trouble."

"Why do you say that? I've told you, Killian is a good man," she reassured Emma, and placed a hand over hers, "If you're going to fall, fall for that man."

* * *

A few hours later, Emma made her way the few blocks to the store. She had gushed with Mary Margaret enough, and she felt like she was back in high school with a lovesick puppy crush. Except he liked her back. And they were not in high school. She sighed beside herself, and grabbed for the door handle to the shop.

The open sign hung in the window, and the bell announced her entrance. She wasn't sure why she came in the front way this time, but she did, and Killian's head popped out from the back.

He had his mouth full, resembling hamster cheeks, and he loudly mumbled something in her general direction before ducking back into the office.

"What did you just say?" she asked with a laugh, and Killian chewed obnoxiously before swallowing, and flashing her his signature grin.

"I said, 'Oh good. It's just you Swan.'"

Emma raised her eyebrows at him, before leaning back against the office door frame, "Oh? _Just me?_ Making a girl feel special Jones." Her tone was teasing as he had mock hurt on his face.

"Alas, stuffing my face with Marco's cooking has again led me astray," he commented, noting Emma's face light up at the mention of Marco's cooking.

"Oooo what is it?" she pushed off the wall, and snatched a cracker with some kind of spread off of Killian's desk.

"Oy! Swan! That's mine!" he swatted her hand away and she just playfully pushed the side of his head, before popping the cracker in her mouth. "Oh my god, this is amazing, what is it?"

Killian pulled her into his lap, and bopped the end of her nose with his finger, "Don't talk with your mouth full Swan. It's not becoming," Emma rolled her eyes at this, still chewing, "and it's smoked salmon in this cheese spread that Marco makes. Pure heaven. It is to me what my crab dip is to David, although I doubt many things will enthuse me as much as David about my cooking."

Emma laughed, and just then the bell on the door rang, and Emma sprang from Killian's lap. "Customer!" she exclaimed, bounding from the office. Killian smiled smugly and reached for a salmon topped cracker, only to have Emma swoop back in and grab it from his hands. "One for the road," she smiled as she shoved it in her mouth before dipping back out into the shop.

"Minx," Killian muttered, settling back to his crackers.

Emma smiled as she quickly chewed the cracker, and smiled to the customer that had entered the store. "Sorry about that, just finishing up lunch," she wiped her mouth on a paper towel, before brushing the crumbs off the front of her shirt, "What can I help you with?"

"What a lovely store," the man remarked, glancing around, "So…quaint." Emma smiled politely at the customer, "Well thank you, I will pass that onto my boss. Looking for anything in particular today?"

The gentleman smiled at her, cocking his head to the side, "What were you just having? That seemed to be quite good." The man gave off a strange vibe, almost oddly satisfied at their interaction already.

Emma was caught a little off guard, "Um… actually that was salmon. I was just eating the smoked version, but we have some fresh here." Emma directed the man over to the fillet display.

"It's wild caught, and comes from just North of us in Canada," she explained, and held a piece over the counter for the gentleman to inspect. He leaned forward, and assessed the fillet.

"Nice tattoo," he commented, noting the small flower on Emma's wrist. She smiled politely and nodded, "Thanks. So, can I pack you up a fillet?"

The man smiled back politely at her, "I suppose so. Just a small one though." Emma chose a small one out of the fillet cooler, wrapped it up, and gestured for the gentleman to meet her at the register.

"That'll be $8.75," Emma told him, and the man whipped out a credit card. "Take plastic?" he asked, and Emma nodded, taking the card from him and running it through the older machine.

The machine shot out a receipt, and Emma handed it to the man, "If you could just sign here please," she paused to read the name on the car, "Mr. Gale."

The gentleman signed the copy, and handed it back to her, in exchange for his card. "Please, call me Walsh. Mr. Gale makes me cringe and feel older than I am."

"Ah, well then I hope you enjoy your salmon, Walsh," Emma forced another smile out as she handed him the fish, and he nodded politely before exiting the shop. Emma craned her neck to watch the guy walk down the docks, and she observed as he appeared to throw the fish in the trashcan before continuing his casual stroll.

"What the hell?" Emma asked herself, before Killian emerged from the office. "Everything ok Love?" he questioned her confused expression.

"I'm pretty sure that customer just bought fish only to throw it in the trash can," she commented, and Killian gave her a doubtful look.

"Are you sure it wasn't something else?" he asked. Emma frowned, glancing out the window again, the figure no longer in sight. "Maybe," she said, before turning back to Killian, "but the guy gave me the serious creeps." She shuttered, and Killian wrapped his arms around her and gave her a kiss in the forehead.

"Probably a rare tourist. Tourists are weird," he stated to try and comfort her. Emma laughed, but had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. It sure didn't seem like a tourist to her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thanks again for all the wonderful feedback recently! The reviews spur me on to write more. Some violence in this chapter for those that might want to avoid.**

* * *

"Emma, up for a drink tonight? Dave just texted that he and Mary Margaret were heading to the pub after work," Killian called from the office to Emma, who was putting the last of the fish away from the evening. Emma brushed the hair out of her face, and walked back to the office.

"Sure, can I go home and shower?" she asked, gesturing down to her clothes which were just a little bit covered in fish bits and slime.

Killian smiled and got up, sauntering over to her, "Of course, but just so you know, I have no problem with how you smell," he leaned up to kiss her when a voice came from the front.

"Excuse me? Anyone here?" Emma groaned at the customer's voice, and smiled apologetically to Killian, before slipping from his grasp.

"Hi there, um…Walsh right?" Emma remembered the gentleman from a few days prior, "Actually, um we've just closed."

"Darn it," the man shook his head, "I was really hoping for another piece of that salmon."

Emma quirked her eyebrow at him, "Oh, did you like it then?" Emma knew this guy was lying as he shook his head enthusiastically. "Absolutely," he grinned, "It would just make my night if I could get another piece."

Emma side eyed him as she went to the cooler, and unpacked a fillet for him, wrapping it up and taking it to the front. He handed her a twenty-dollar bill, and waved off the need for change.

"Just keep the change…it's the least I can do for your troubles Miss Swan," he commented, and stepped out the door. Emma took a step back as he left the store, and her stomach filled with dread. She watched the man walk to the nearest trashcan and throw the fillet in. He turned and looked back at her, winked, and walked away.

"Emma?" Killian asked from behind her, and Emma jumped, turning around in a defensive pose. "Hey, hey…whoa now... what's going on?"

Emma stood, shivering in place, wide eyed. "He knew my name," she mumbled, and Killian closed the space between them and wrapped her in his arms. "Shhh… what's going on? You know you have a name tag on."

"No, my last name," she muttered, before tearing from his arms and out the front door, Killian hot on her heels. She spun wildly in the streets looking for Walsh, but he seemed to have vanished into thin air. As she looked, her eye caught the trashcan he threw the fillet into, and she took quick strides over to it, flinging the lid off and frantically digging through the garbage.

"Emma, what the hell is going on?" Killian asked, completely thrown by her panic. She pulled out the salmon fillet from the trash. "He _did_ throw it away. I knew I wasn't crazy!"

Emma let out a crazy laugh and shook her head, sliding down to the boards of the dock. "He found me," she whispered, and let out a sad little laugh, "I'm so stupid."

"Emma? Emma?" Killian knelt down in front of her, and she didn't respond. "Ok, that's it," he spoke firmly, and scooped her up in his arms, cradling her like a child. She clung to his chest, and rested her head on his chest and a few moments later, she was wrapped in a blanket sitting on a sofa. She stared at the wall, and heard Killian's voice on the phone from another room.

"I don't know Mary Margaret, she just flipped out and lost it. This guy just, just set her off. Can you get David to go by and lock the store? The last thing I need is anyone breaking in there. What do you mean be careful? She's not dangerous for Christ sake. What? What do you mean she was in some kind of trouble? Oh of course you don't know specifically what it is. I don't have a tone. Ok…Ok…I'm going to go talk to her. I don't know if she wants to come back to the loft tonight but if she does of course I will bring her. Alright…bye."

Killian was kneeling in front of her moments later, hand on her cheek. "Emma, love, you've got to talk to me… what's going on?"

Emma suddenly snapped out of it, "No, I've got to go. He's found me…I've got to go." She sprung from the couch and looked wildly around the room. "Where am I?" she asked, looking frantically for the door.

"My place," Killian said softly, rising from the floor and cautiously walking towards her, "and I don't think it's a great idea if you leave right now in your current state."

Emma let out a harsh laugh, "Oh this is almost my natural state by now." It was a bitter, almost manic laugh, and Killian jerked his head back at her voice.

"Emma, this is not your natural state. Please calm down… I won't let anything hurt you," he spoke softly, and finally catching her eyes with his gaze. Killian didn't break eye contact and walked towards her slowly, and when he was close enough, reached out and intertwined his fingers with her. Emma tensed and relaxed. His other hand came back around her, and stroked her hair, and he kissed his forehead. "I'm not going anywhere Emma. We will solve whatever the problem is together."

Killian felt Emma's whole body fall into wrecked sobs, and he lifted her once more and took her back to the couch, tucking her in next to him and holding her as the sobs tore from her chest. "I'm in trouble Killian," she whispered as the sobs subsided, and Killian stroked her hair and held her close. "Not anymore Emma. I will protect you. I promise."

* * *

Emma awoke hours later bleary eyed and tucked into a strange bed. Whispered voices were coming from the kitchen, and she could make out Mary Margaret, David and Killian's voices. She looked around the room. It was small, and had a very LL Bean meets nautical vibe coming from it. The sheets she was tucked into were plaid flannel, and framed prints of boats and the Maine shore decorated the wall. There were a few bowls of seashells scattered around the room, and wood paneling completed the cabin look.

Stretching, Emma let her bare feet hit the floor, and wavered slightly. The house was moving. Earthquake? No…this was Maine. Emma steadied herself, and looked out the window. She was on the water.

"Love?" Killian asked from the doorway, scratching nervously behind his ear, "How are you feeling?"

Emma sighed and changed the topic, "You live on a boat?"

"A houseboat aye," he answered, walking to her, and rubbing her shoulders as she gazed out the window, "but you're avoiding the question."

There was a long span of silence, and Emma sighed again, a nervous one, filled with an unsettled energy. "I'm scared," she said softly.

"Love, you don't need to be scared. No one is going to hurt you," Killian turned her to look her in the eye, reassurance thick in his voice.

"No, it's not that. I mean, that's a part of it, but what if I tell you what's happened, and you don't believe me. Or, after everything, you don't want to…I can't even say 'see me' anymore, because is that even what we are doing?"

Killian guided Emma over to the bed and sat her down, "Emma, all of us have ghosts in our past. Some of them are uglier than others. I will not judge you on them… that I can promise. And as far as what we are…we are Emma and Killian. And that will never change." Emma nodded her head, and he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

"Now," he continued, "I brought Dave here, in a sheriff-ing capacity, and together, we are going to protect you from whatever is happening. Ok?" Emma looked nervous at the mention of a sheriff, but she nodded her head. Killian took her hand in his, and lead her back out to his living room, where Mary Margaret and David were talking in low voices in the small kitchen. When Killian and Emma emerged, Mary Margaret went straight to her and wrapped her in a hug. Emma did not let go of Killian's hand, but it felt good to have the support of a friend.

"Emma," David called to her as he walked to the living room, "Let's sit down and talk about what is going on, ok?"

"I guess I will start at the beginning," Emma spoke softly, and Killian squeezed her hand gently as she began.

"I had a rough childhood. Without going into too many details, I bounced from foster home to foster home, and grew up in the system. I ran away many times, but the one that stuck was when I was 15. I was in New York, and got into a little trouble. I had some sticky fingers, and a couple of run ins with the police. Nothing big… but little stuff like a bag of candy, or a shirt. I'm not proud of it, but after getting caught the first few times, I got a lot better. And started trying to steal some bigger things, like a car, except I happened to meet someone else who was trying to steal the same car. His name was Neal Cassidy." David and Killian locked eyes when she mentioned the thieving, but Emma's eyes were focused solely on her and Killian's intertwined hands.

"He was older, and had a real bad boy vibe to him, and I fell for him. I was young and dumb. We had a real Bonnie and Clyde thing going on, but it got old, and frankly, too risky. So I finally got a job as a waitress at a shitty diner, and Neal managed to get a job at a little pawn shop on the corner near our apartment, and we starting making an honest living. We had a few friends we'd meet at the bars, and it was a simply little life. I was happy. After being bumped from place to place, and being on my own, I had found a place, and I was happy. And we were like that for almost a year."

Emma took her free hand and rubbed her temples, and sighing heavily. "The next part… it's a little hazy to be honest. I remember I had a morning shift at the diner I worked at, and I got off early, and headed to meet Neal for lunch. He couldn't leave, and had to work a double, and I remember for some reason he was being a jerk about it. We had a bit of an argument in front of a customer, and he was upset about it, and told me to come in the back to finish the conversation. So we went in the backroom, where he immediately apologized. I remember thinking the whole interaction was a little out of character for him, but he insisted he was just tired. He said he promised to make it up to me, and if I was already on the way home, that he wanted me to take something back to the apartment for him. He told me it was a surprise for us for later, so I took the small case, and left. I look back on it, and I was so naïve, and didn't even question why he would give me something, but I took it and left. I probably made it three blocks before I was jumped. Someone grabbed me by my ponytail and drug me back into the ally. There were two of them… I think."

Silent tears started running down Emma's face at this point, and she started shaking. "I tried, I tried to fight them off, but they wouldn't stop. I remember hands around my neck, and I tried to cry out, but I couldn't, I couldn't breathe…" Killian sat with a clenched jaw, and Mary Margaret clapped her hand over her mouth as Emma continued. "They tossed me around like a ragdoll, and then one of them said to the other…I don't think I will ever forget it: "Neal said to kill her. Stop playing and get it over with." But someone, someone saw them I think, and called the police. I assume that's what happened. I remember feeling the blood run down my face, and gasping for air, and then I woke up in the hospital."

"Emma," Killian whispered softly, and squeezed her hand again, looking to David, who was all business with his face. "Emma, what happened after you woke up?" David asked.

"I woke up, and I heard, I heard the police talking about how I was a suspect in a robbery, and given my past history, how it was only a matter of time until I took on something like this," she explained, "but then, then I heard Neal's voice coming from the lobby. I heard him arguing about getting in to see me, and I panicked. I ripped the IV out, slipped past the police, and ran."

"How long has it been since this happened?" David asked again, and Emma furrowed her brow, thinking. "A year or so. I thought, I thought maybe I got away this time, but that man, that man knew who I was. He's here to find me."

"Ok, first things first, nothing is going to happen to you Emma. You are safe here in Storybrooke, and as far as I am concerned, innocent. Ok?" David was confident in his answer and Emma nodded. "Now, I am going to go back to the station and see what I can find out about this Walsh fellow, and see if there's anything on this case or Neal in the system. Until I know more, can you sit tight here at Killian's?" David asked.

"She can stay here as long as she likes," Killian answered, rubbing his thumb across her hand, and Emma nodded. "Yeah, I'll stay here," Emma agreed, and David got up from the chair and headed towards the door.

"David?" Emma called to him as he was walking out the door, and he turned to her, "Thank you." David nodded and exited Killian's house, and Mary Margaret made quick to stand up and leave Killian and Emma alone. "I'm just going to go into the kitchen and make some cocoa for everyone. Or coffee. Or maybe rum…I'll be over here," she babbled as she left the room.

"Emma," Killian whispered, and pulled her to him, resting his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes and slumped slightly, body too tense to relax all the way, and Killian ran his hand up and down her back. Nothing was going to harm Emma Swan anymore.

* * *

David sat at his computer at the Sherriff's station hours later when Killian walked in, and David quickly minimized his screen and smiled at him. "Hey bud, what can I do for you? I thought you would be with Emma."

Killian shook his head softly at David's chipper demeanor, "Mary Margaret is with her. You know why I'm here mate. What did you pull up?"

David sighed, "You're not going to like it."

"Do I look like I care if I like it?" Killian asked, and pulled over a chair, sitting down in it. David maximized the browser window he was reading moments later, and suddenly Emma's face was looking back at Killian. But this wasn't the face Killian knew now, or even the face he had seen when she first came into town. This face was bloody and bruised. A broken nose blended into two black eyes. A split lip and a deep gash in her cheek were peppered with drying blood, and there were very clear fingerprint sized bruises on her neck.

Killian said nothing, but his fingers had gone white from clenching his fists together. "These were taken at the hospital after they found her. The report said she was lucky to be alive, and then all the sudden, she was gone. Clearly, an A+ staff. Records indicate a N. Cassidy did try to visit her, claiming to be her brother, but he wasn't allowed in for visitation. Emma dropped off the radar shortly after."

"What about this Walsh guy?" Killian asked through gritted teeth. David shook his head, "Nothing. Nothing under a Walsh Gale at least. I'd need to have a photo or bring him in for questioning to get more information."

"That can be arranged," Killian muttered, and David turned to him, "Hey, settle down. I said Emma will be safe here, and she will be. I'm going to have someone patrolling down near your store, and if this guy shows back up, we will bring him in."

"And Cassidy?" Killian asked, again containing his anger. David shrugged, "Nothing by that name came up with any records or anything criminal, but there is a photo." A picture of a goateed face popped onto the screen, and Killian raised his eyebrows at the photo, and leaned towards the screen. "I'm going to make a call to some contacts in Portland and see if I can find out anything about this guy. I'm guessing we're going to find more on the two of them with some digging, and some facial recognition software. "

Killian ran his hand over his face, and sighed deeply. "I wasn't expecting that story," Killian admitted to David, "That's a lot. I'm worried about her."

David leaned back in his chair, "So, take her somewhere. Get her out of here for a few days. And not to Marco's…I know you love that guy, but lay low. Maybe take her out to Jewell. "

Killian looked up at David, and frowned, "I haven't been on a boat since…"

"You live on a boat Killian," David corrected, but Killian stared at him and frowned deeper.

"You know what I mean mate. I haven't since," he paused giving David a knowing look, before countering with, "I don't even have a boat to take us out there."

"Take mine," David offered, and got up to grab his keys off a hook, and slid a small one off a ring of dozens. "Just take good care of her. I love her."

"Not as much as that pick-up truck of yours," Killian teased him, but nervously tucked the key in his pocket.

David clapped Killian on the back, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "You can do it. It's not that far, and really, focus on getting her out of here, instead of worrying about the past."

Killian nodded and left the sheriffs station, heading back towards the small houseboat, docked not far from his shop. Emma and Mary Margaret were piled on the couch, watching a romantic comedy on his small TV.

"Hello Ladies," Killian smiled brightly at both of them, and Emma gave him a small smile from the couch. He wandered over, and stroked the back of Emma's head as he watched a few minutes of the film.

"This is horrid," he said with playful disgust in his voice. Mary Margaret beamed at him, "I know. It's just what we needed."

Killian frowned at the man's accent on the screen, "His accent is rubbish." Emma leaned her head back to stare up at him with a teasing smile on her face, "I don't know. I quite fancy it."

He leaned forward and whispered "liar" before kissing her.

"OK….well I'm off then," Mary Margaret announced, clearly uncomfortable at the close PDA. Emma blushed and Killian chuckled softly, "Sorry Miss B," Killian apologized, and gave her a friendly hug before helping her into her coat.

Mary Margaret shrugged, "I'm sure you've seen your fair share of David and me. Besides, I've seen this movie 100 times."

"Thanks for keeping me company today," Emma called from the couch. "Anytime!" Mary Margaret chirped happily, and let herself out.

"So," Killian started as he plopped on the couch next to Emma.

"So," Emma replied, raising a brow at him.

"Hanging in there Swan?" Killian asked, pulling her socked feet into his lap, and rubbing the knots out of the bottom gently.

Emma sighed at the unexpected foot massage, "I suppose so. Actually, I feel better having told someone. I've been holding onto it for a long time."

Killian kneaded his hands into her arch and she sighed again. "How would you feel about getting out of here for a few days?" Killian asked, and Emma raised her brow again.

"Where?" she asked, and he smiled softly.

"A place with no people, no problems, and no shifty gentleman that throw away perfectly good salmon," Killian replied.

"And I'd be going with you?"

"Swan, of course. How else would we get there? There needs to be a captain!"

Emma let out a laugh at this. "Oh, we're taking a boat there? Do I have to call you Captain now?"

Killian grinned at her and waggled his eyebrows, "Only if you so desire."


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Y'alls feedback gives me life! Seriously! I love every review I get, they make me so happy! I would also like to apologize for any grammar errors in these stories... I don't have a beta. (anyone want the job?! haha!) This one is fun...and we're nearing the end, well, for at least this story. Hold onto your butts.**

* * *

Walsh was a patient man. Not in that zen kind of way though… more like a house cat: sitting and waiting around corners to pounce out and attack. And he'd been lying in wait long enough.

He took a deep drag of a cigarette as he sat in his car, patiently waiting for his phone to ring. He watched a small boat motor off from the docks, with a blonde woman onboard, a dark haired man at her side. The cigarette was burning down, and he rolled down his window to flick it out onto the curb, before rolling it back up. The small boat flitted towards the horizon, and Walsh pursed his lips together. His phone rang.

"Hello Cassidy," Walsh's smooth voice greeted a man on the other line.. "Walsh," the voice acknowledged him, and he lit another cigarette.

"They are leaving town for a night, at least. Heading to a small island off the coast," Walsh informed the voice coming from his phone.

The voice chuckled, "I don't even want to know how you found that out. So worth the money."

Walsh inhaled deeply on his cigarette, before countering back with an icy smooth voice, "I don't like to talk money. Seems… a bit tacky, no?"

The voice on the other line chuckled again, "Whatever you want dude. I just want this problem… taken care of. The first time didn't work so well."

"I can see that," Walsh snarked coolly, watching the boat, almost a dot now, putt towards an island in the distance, "I can take care of it in 24 hours."

"Good. Do that," the voice on the phone answered, "I'm tired of paying for this cat and mouse game. She's cornered here."

"And the man?" Walsh asked.

"Sometimes people are in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Walsh nodded to himself and hung up the phone. Taking another deep drag out of his cigarette, he surveyed the boats around the marina. It was time to go hunting.

* * *

Emma was almost giddy packing up the small boat for the weekend trip. Tent? Check. Copious amounts of food? Check. Carefree handsome Captain? Well…the handsome captain was there, but Killian was practically jumping out of his skin loading the small skiff.

"Hey," Emma grabbed his hand as he passed by her to grab a few more things from his truck, "What's going on?"

"Apologies lass," Killian shook his head, and ran his fingers through his hair, "I haven't been on the water since, since Liam…"

Emma squeezed his hand, "Were you with him when the accident happened?"

Killian shook his head no. "I haven't been on the water since it happened though."

"Killian, you live on a houseboat," Emma pointed out with a smile, and Killian tried to paste one on as a response.

"Aye, you're not wrong. But it's different. I'm moored up here, and well, it's just different," he shrugged and ran his hands through his hair.

Emma touched his cheek, "Let's stay here then. I don't want you upset."

Killian's face turned fierce, "No love, this is something I need to do. And I think… I think having you with me, maybe… maybe it will help?" Killian blushed a little at the last part, and Emma smiled, reaching up to give him a soft kiss. The kiss deepened and Killian let out a little growl, and nipped Emma's bottom lip. "Come on love," he held out his hand to help her onto the skiff, "Let's set sail."

Killian was tense as they took off from the small marina. One hand gripped the tiller tightly, and the other held onto Emma's hand. But as the engine putted along, and picked up speed, Killian's grip loosened. His face relaxed. The small boat hopped along the choppy seas, and sea spray was thrown up as they cut through the waves. And suddenly, Killian's anxiety was gone. His hair whipped back and Emma looked at him. He was in his element, and a smile spread across his face. He looked down at her and leaned down quickly to press his lips against her, before letting out a little "whoop" and cranking the motor up. Emma threw her head back and laughed, as Storybrooke faded into the distance, and both of their worries sank to the bottom of the sea.

The island was beautiful, and Killian leapt from the boat when they got close to shore, pulling the skiff close enough to shore that Emma could pass him the supplies from the boat, before leaping off herself. The duo giggled, drunk on the speedy trip out, and the much-lightened mood.

They set up camp a ways from the beach, but they could still see the water from their elevated campsite. It was rustic camping, but Killian managed to make quite the swanky tent. A quilted, fluffy pad was on the ground, and downy pillows looked more than inviting. A large, double sleeping bag laid in the middle, with a multitude of thick, wool blankets covering that. Yes, it was excessive, but it was also Maine in October, so it was bloody cold too.

Killian was quite proud of his work, and set Emma to work on assembling "what shall be the most epic of all cheese plates" while he went to chop firewood.

Fifteen minutes later, Killian had found an already downed tree, and set to work with his axe. He split the logs with ease, and made sure to cut enough to have for the next few days, just in case they stayed more than one night.

"You know, I never really understood the lumberjack fetish until right this moment," Emma's voice came from behind Killian as he leaned over to collect wood. She was leaning back against a tree, eyes fixed on his backside, and Killian smirked, standing up and turning around to raise an eyebrow at her.

"Admiring the view?" he questioned, heading towards here with a handful of wood in his arms.

"Immensely," she smiled at him, and held out a piece of cheese for him. He dipped down and snagged it in his teeth as she giggled, following him back the short path to the camp. The sky was getting dusky, and as Killian walked back into camp, he was surprised to see a small picnic laid out. Not only was there a cheese tray, but small meats, bread, wine…and candlesticks. Killian raised an eyebrow at her as he sat the wood down. "Now Swan, this is quite the surprise," he stated, and sauntered over to her. She blushed, but beamed up at him, "Well, Mary Margaret helped. As you know, I'm not all that domestic."

"Judging by this, I beg to differ love," he replied, before kissing her softly. "Pour us some wine, and I'll get this fire started ok?"

Killian had a roaring fire going in no time, and Emma tucked in beside him as they feasted on fancy cheeses, and sipped French wine. There wasn't much talking, but just enjoying each other's presence, and the fire. It was enough to let the fears of Neal melt away from Emma Swan's mind, and the nightmarish memories of Liam fade from Killian's.

"I've got dessert," Emma stated as Killian poured them other another glass.

He kissed her in response, "Emma Swan, if it doesn't taste as good as you I'm not interested." He grinned against her lips and she chuckled. "Smooth Killian, smooth," she laughed, before pulling out a little box, wrapped up beautifully.

"Granny has been holding out on us…I didn't know she could make these," Emma stated, pulling the ribbon out and opening up the box to a dozen multicolored macarons.

"Ever had these before?" Emma asked, as she handed Killian a white one. Killian shook his head no, and Emma's eyes twinkled in anticipation as Killian bit into it, closed his eyes and groaned. Emma giggled, and Killian looked at her in disbelief.

"These are sinful, what are these?" he asked, savoring the bit of small cookie in his mouth. Emma took a peak at the small key Granny had handwritten on the top of the box.

"French macarons. Evidently, that one is spiced rum. No wonder you like it," she laughed, and Killian offered her the other half of the small cookie. Emma closed her eyes as it melted on her tongue. "Oh yeah, Granny was holding out."

"What else do you have in there?" Killian peered over the edge of the box, and together the two of them devoured the small box of French treats, while sipping wine and giggling, trying to guess the flavors. After they finished, Emma tucked herself between Killian's legs, and leaned her back against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her, and started telling her about the constellations that were in the Maine sky this time of year. "That one is Andromeda," Killian pointed to a cluster of stars that formed a V. Emma hummed softly in approval, and pointed to another cluster, "What's that one?"

"Why that is the great winged Pegasus!" Killian dramatically explained, and showed Emma which of the stars were actually galaxies.

"Nerd," Emma whispered, and leaned her head to the side to kiss his neck, slowly moving her lips across his skin.

Killian's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed deeply, running his hands up and down her arms slowly. "Emma love, I think we should retire to the bedroom…well…tent area," he suggested, and Emma hummed in approval. A sleepy Emma was guided into the tent, and tucked into Killian's side.

Slow kisses were dropped on her forehead, cheek and finally, her lips.

"I'm glad I am here with you Killian," Emma whispered against his lips. "Just as I am glad you are here with me," he replied, before resting his forehead against hers and settling into slumber.

* * *

Tents at night are wonderful things. They are warm, and you can nestle in with someone, and the body heat alone will keep you warm.

Tents in the morning, as the sun comes up, turn into little ovens. Emma groaned and attempted to kick the covers off, before realizing that she was zipped into a sleeping bag. It was a very good idea last night when she was sleepy and it was cold. Now she was in a large burrito, with a heat radiating brit, and about to sweat to death. She tried to wiggle around and find the zipper to no avail.

"Swan, what are you doing?" Killian groaned into the back of her neck, and she froze, realizing that she had just been squirming around against his front, and he was suddenly very, very awake.

"I'm hot," she whined, and Killian chuckled, before grabbing her hips and pulling her back to him firmly. "Yes, yes you are," he purred in her ear, catching her earlobe with his teeth.

Suddenly, the sleeping bag was fine and Emma had no problem at all with it. She turned onto her other side, and Killian pulled her back against him quickly, hiking her leg over his hip. He moved his hips slowly, and sinfully ground himself against her. His rough fingertips drifted up her shirt, one hand gently cupping the back of her neck. The other drifted around to her front, and traced the curves down her side. Emma moaned as he skimmed his finger across the waistband of her pajama pants.

Emma's hands tugged as Killian's waistband as well, which given the tight space they were in, was easier said than done. She started pulling them down, and let out a little frustrated noise as their legs both became entangled. Killian chuckled against her neck, before giving her nose a quick peck.

"Let's perhaps rid ourselves of these clothes before we continue, love?" Killian offered playfully, and Emma nodded, biting her bottom lip. His hands moved swiftly to unbutton the flannel shirt she had wrapped herself in, pushing it back off of her shoulders, and gently kissing her breasts as he pulled it down off her arms. Emma let out a moan, and she could feel Killian smile against her skin. He then pulled her pajamas and underwear off in one swift move, with a little help of Emma hiking her legs up, before removing his, and slipping his t-shirt off.

Emma then realized they were both naked in a sleeping bag together. Killian felt her sudden hesitation. "Is this, is this ok? I guess I assumed…" he trailed off, looking suddenly embarrassed.

Emma shook her head, "No, it's fine. I just realized that we haven't been like this yet and I suddenly just felt…" he ducked her head with a blush.

"You're lovely, Emma," he pulled her chin up to look at him, and ran his thumb across her cheek, before kissed her softly. "My beautiful Swan," he murmured, and he felt Emma relax. Their kisses were soft, full of things it wasn't yet time to say, and Emma felt herself falling deeper for the man the wonderful man that somehow found his way into her life.

Killian's hand traveled down to cup her breasts again. He teased each nipple, rolling each between his fingers, before letting his hand travel further south to Emma's waiting core. His fingers teased at her entrance, and he found her wanting.

"Emma," he breathed out, forehead to forehead, as his fingers found her bundle of nerves, stroking them softly.

Emma let out a sinful moan against Killian's lips, cause him to groan. He moved his mouth to her neck, sucking down her collarbone before working his way back over to the place he knew she liked so much. She whimpered as he slipped one finger into her wet core, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb over her clit.

"Fuck, Killian" Emma bit out, and Killian hummed against her neck.

"Fall apart for me love, I want to see you," he whispered in her ear, and slipped in a second finger. He moved his thumb quicker, and he could feel Emma's body tense, before her walls fluttered around him, and she threw her head back. Killian couldn't help but rut himself against her leg shamelessly and he coaxed her through her orgasm. Killian could hardly contain his wanting as he watched her flushed and panting beneath him. Emma opened her eyes and locked them with his.

"Killian, I want you," she almost begged, and Killian didn't hesitate to line himself with her entrance.

"Emma are you sure?" he asked, as Emma wrapped her leg around Killian's back and pulled him to her.

"Killian, please…" she whispered at his lips. He touched his lips to hers as he slid into her, stilling for a few moments to let her adjust. He trembled holding still, and closed his eyes, forehead against Emma's. Emma moved her hips slightly, and it was all the encouragement he needed to rock his hips against her.

"Emma, my Swan…" he whispered in a voice nothing short of wrecked. His hand found her already tightly wound bundle of nerves again, and he moved his finger across them as he struggled to keep his thrusts steady.

Emma moaned as his finger found the place where they were joined, and her body began to quiver once more. "Killian," she whispered, and Killian's thrusts became more frantic as he could feel her walls tightening around him. Moments later, their hands entwined, they held onto each other as orgasm ripped through both of them. Killian collapsed on top of Emma, burying his head in her neck, as they both tried to catch their breath.

Killian gently rolled off of her, and brushed the hair out of her face before tucking her against him.

"I think I like camping," Emma said after a few minutes with a giggle, and Killian raised an eyebrow at her, "Oh yeah?" He grinned at her still flushed face, and absentmindedly ran his hand up and down her arm.

"I have to say," Killian mused after a few moments, "It is certainly better than my usually camping arrangement, which is me alone in a tent, and David and Mary Margaret trying to keep it down in the other tent."

Emma laughed at this, and Killian smiled down at her. The tent now had a more than just a rosey glow, and they duo could tell that they had been in the tent well past early morning, when they usually rose. Emma's stomach let out a growl and she giggled against Killian's chest.

"How about breakfast in bed?" Emma asked, "I can get the fire going again, and I'll have coffee and me back in here in mere moments."

"I can help love, I don't mind," Killian offered, and Emma shook her head as she slipped the oversized flannel shirt over her head and pulled the boots on that were sitting at the front of the tent.

"I got it," she chirped, and blew Killian a kiss before she zipped the tent up. The fire had almost completely died down, but there were some embers still glowing brightly. It wouldn't take much to get it going again, so Emma set off down the little trail to where Killian had been chopping wood the day before. She smiled as she thought of the morning activities, and found herself bushing again, even though no one was around. She laughed to herself as she turned the corner to the small woodpile.

Leaning up against a tree, a few feet from Emma, was Walsh.

"Good morning," he offered in a smooth, steady voice. Emma froze in her tracks.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He tilted his head at her, a smile creeping across his features. "Well, I felt like going for a hunt this morning," he said with a grin, before raising a gun up and pointing it straight at Emma, "and I heard Swans were in season."


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note: Guys...Almost 12,000 of you have read this story and I am overwhelmed! Your reviews and comments are just the best things ever! Thank you to my new Beta tnplh, you're awesome. Have a good Friday the 13th everyone, and enjoy!**

* * *

At the sight of a gun, Emma made a move to run, but Walsh stopped her with a twitchy trigger finger. The gun fired and missed Emma's boot by inches. She threw her hands up in the air, and wide eyed, she stilled.

"Running probably isn't a bad idea. I'd rather not shoot you in the back, but I will," he scolded her.

"You don't have to do this," Emma started, and Walsh rolled his eyes.

"You're right, I don't. But there's this thing called a career path," he started and Emma interrupted with, "You think this is a career path?"

Walsh snorted, "You think this is the time to run your sarcastic little mouth?" Emma clamped her mouth shut and shifted her feet slightly, Killian would have heard that gunshot. It had a silencer on it, but it was still a gunshot, and he was only a few hundred feet from where she was now. Her thoughts begged him to stay in the tent.

"Where's lover boy?" Walsh asked, and walked slowly towards Emma, gun still focused on her. "He left this morning to go get more supplies," Emma tried to lie through shaky nerves.

"Bad liar," Walsh laughed, "Turn around." Emma did as she was commanded, and with the sound of a zip-tie, her hands were tied behind her back.

He pushed the gun firmly into her back and shoved her forward, "Walk back the way you came, and when you get to your camp, call for Mr. Jones. We're going to take care of that problem first." Emma winced at the feeling of the barrel of the gun pressed to her spine, but started walking.

They entered the small space where the tent was, and the fire was smoldering still. "Call him," Walsh whispered against her ear. Emma moved her head away from his mouth, before clearing her throat. "Killian?" she called softly.

There was no answer. "Again," Walsh instructed, and Emma swallowed deeply before calling out again, louder, "Killian?"

Silence answered her. "Please don't be in there, please don't be in there," she whispered to herself. Walsh rolled his eyes dramatically, pushing Emma to the ground with a thud. "Well, if he isn't going to come out," he shrugged, before firing several shots into the tent. Emma screamed, and sobs fell from her throat. Walsh took a few strides over to the tent and unzipped it. Down feathers billowed out, floating to the ground, but Killian was not inside.

"Fuck," Walsh cursed, and Emma's sobs turned into tears of happiness. He turned to her, scowled, and kicked her straight in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. She gasped and rolled onto her back, trying to catch her breath.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to check the caller ID. "What Cassidy?" he answered with a snipped tone. "Is it done?" the voice on the other end asked.

Walsh rolled his eyes, and pushed Emma back over to her side, and slowly stepped on her hands that were tied together. "Has it been 24 hours? No, I don't think it has. Now leave me alone and let me do my work." His words were irritated, and Emma tried not to whimper under the pain of his weight on her hands. She let out a loud sob, and the voice on the other end of the phone seemed to perk up with laughter, "Oh, I've interrupted you. My apologies. Go finish whatever it was you were working on, and give Emma my love." The line went dead and Walsh slipped the phone back into his pocket. He scanned the horizon for any sign of the dark haired man to no avail.

He leaned over to whisper in Emma's ear, "Now, see... things are messier now. This was supposed to be a clean job, and your lover is making that quite impossible right now, isn't he? So you're going to be a good girl, and help me lure him out here. How loud do you think you can scream, hmmm?"

Walsh held the gun with his left hand, and with his right reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. "You let me know when this hurts, ok?" he said as he began to press the blade into Emma's side. Biting her lip, Emma did not want to scream. Killian needed to stay safe.

Suddenly, Walsh was knocked to the ground. Killian stood behind him with his axe from earlier, having smashed the dull end of it into the back of his head. "You let me know when that hurts, ok?" he quipped, before helping Emma to her feet. He used the sharp blade of the axe to cut free Emma's hand, and suddenly he was holding her, having her wrapped in his arms, and was kissing her all over. "It's ok love, I have you and we're going right now, ok?"

They linked arms and sprinted towards the boat they had anchored the day before. When they reached the beach, Killian looked frantically around. The boat was gone.

"God damn it," Killian cursed, "He cut the fucking anchor line." A sudden gunshot that ricocheted off the rocks, directed Emma and Killian's eyes up to the campsite. Walsh stood, gun pointed at them, blood streaming down his face.

"Hold still, this will hurt less," he warned, and Killian was quick to grab Emma's hand and run.

"Stay in front of me!" Killian yelled as they scrambled out of view of Walsh. Both of them were running as fast as they could, cutting close around the cliff edges to try to stay out of view. "Killian, we're on a fucking island. Where can we even go?" Emma yelled as they ran along, and suddenly Killian had her up against a cliff face, hand covering her mouth. She was wide eyed, and he took his free hand to hold a finger to his lips, motioning for her not to say anything, as he removed the hand from her mouth. They both stayed silent, trying to steady their breath, and listen for the crunch of boots on the beach rocks, or the snap of the twig.

Silence surrounded them. Killian breathed a small sigh of relief, and rested his forehead against Emma's. "I think we're safe here," he whispered against her lips, and leaned forward, softly and reassuringly kissing Emma.

"Guess again," Walsh's voice came from behind Killian, and he raised his gun and fired. The sound of the gunshot rang out from against the cliff face above them, before echoing out over the sea. Killian's eyes widened, and he fell into Emma. "Killian? Killian!" Emma's voice filled with panic as he fell into her, and they both slid to the ground.

"Sorry love," he said, coughing hard. Blood bloomed across his shirt, and Emma pressed her hand down on the wound, as his eyes fluttered shut. "Killian, stay with me. Stay awake!" she begged, pressing her hand into his wound.

Walsh laughed from above her, looming over both of them. "I told you I didn't want this to be messy," he said, as he pointed the gun towards Emma, "but you didn't listen. No one ever listens."

And then the sound of a gunshot rang out over the cliffs once more.

* * *

Getting shot didn't hurt as much as Killian thought it would. It happened so quick, and all he could remember was thinking about Emma. He couldn't protect Emma. And that was the first thought that flew into his mind as his eyes opened. "Emma," he groaned sleepily, before his eyes widened and he tried to sit up, "Emma!" he yelled hoarsely, and David gently held him down to the bed. "Hey buddy, easy easy...Emma is ok, but you need to lie still. You're in the hospital, and you need to take it easy," he said with a concerned voice and Killian tried to shrug him off, unsuccessfully.

"Sod off," Killian muttered, scowling in the bed, and trying to lift himself off to no avail while David easily held him down.

"Now Killian, that is no way to treat the man that saved our lives," Emma said as she rounded the corner into the room, and Killian instantly relaxed, tears springing to his eyes. "Emma," he whispered, and she replaced David by Killian's side. Her face had bruises and scratches, several fingers on her hands were bandaged, and she winced when she sat, but she was there in front of him.

"What happened?" Killian asked, concerned, and tried reaching for her face with his left arm, but finding that he couldn't.

"I can't move my arm," Killian frowned, and tried again, then looked at Emma with a confused face, "Why can't I move my arm?"

Emma grabbed his right hand and squeezed. "Well, when Walsh shot you, he missed you're heart, and major arteries, but there was some nerve damage," she swallowed down emotion and smiled sadly at him, "they said that you're so lucky. So, so lucky to be alive. _I'm_ so lucky you're alive."

"So, my arm is… I won't be able to move my arm?" Killian asked, and Emma looked up worriedly at David, before she gave Killian's hand another squeeze. "Killian, they just aren't sure right now. As soon as your wound heals, they are going to get you into physical therapy, and we're going to do as much as we can, ok?"

"Swan," Killian's tone said it all, "stop sugar coating it."

Emma grimaced at his response. "It doesn't look great, but you know what? It doesn't matter. You're alive, and you're here, and we're going to get you healed and good as new."

Killian frowned and looked to David. "Where's Walsh?" David put on his official "cop" face, and gave Killian the briefing. David had arrived moments before Walsh was about to shoot a second time, and intercepted him, shooting Walsh in the leg and bringing him down. Walsh was now in custody, and they were in the process of interrogation to get information on Neal Cassidy.

"He was very heroic Killian, like one of those Borne Identity guys," Emma added, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Killian rolled his eyes, "You wish you were as handsome as that Damon bloke," Killian teased David, before wincing at the pain of laughing.

"You both were valiant, and brave, and I," Emma started, before getting choked up, "I'm not sure how I can repay you." David came forward and gave Emma a brotherly kiss on the head, "You just take care of our guy here and it's all the repayment I need. Oh, and let Mary Margaret fuss over you guys for at least a week, or she's going to drive me insane." He added the bit on the end with a wide-eyed expression and a squeeze to Emma's shoulder. He pointed at Killian, "Rest. Sheriff's orders. And you totally owe me crab dip on demand for life, of course."

"Thanks Mate," Killian said, very sincerely, and David nodded in response, and left the two of them alone in the room. The beeping of the monitors in the hospital room filled the silence, and Killian suddenly started, "I'm sorry.'

Emma's eyes shot up, "You're sorry? For what? You saved my life. You quite literally took a bullet for me."

"But you're still hurt. And now, now I'm this," he gestured to the arm he couldn't move. "How can I make a living with one arm. I have to lift, and cut, and… I don't know how…"

Emma stopped him by leaning over and giving him a kiss. "Stop," she whispered against his lips, "You're alive. You saved me. We will get through this together. I promise."

A small smile graced his lips, and she ran a thumb over his cheek, and brushed his hair out of his face.

"Out of my way! I am family damn it woman and you will let me in!" A strong, accented voice came from the hallway, causing a genuine smile to spread across his face.

Marco came bursting into the room, much to the dismay of the nurse behind him, trying to keep him in line. "Sir you can't come back here," she argued, but then saw Killian embrace the old man as he flung himself at the bed. The nurse threw her hands up and walked out of the room, with a warning of "five minutes" muttered behind her. "Killian, my boy… how are you? You look handsome as ever, _Meno Male!_ Can't hurt the pretty face!" He fussed over Killian, kissing him repetitively on the cheek, and brushing on the left arm injury. Emma filled Marco in on the story, and left the two of them to find some coffee, and let the two of them visit. Marco pulled out a tiny bottle of rum, and Killian raised his eyebrows.

"I love you old man," he grinned as Marco slipped it into a spare paper cup and handed it to him. "Rat me out to Emma young man and you'll be in big trouble," Marco teased, and Killian savored the taste of his favorite rum, before sighing heavily.

"Why the sighs?" Marco asked, taking the cup from Killian and having a sip himself. Killian nodded to his left arm, lying still on his side.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself Killian. It's not going to be easy, but since when did you ever do anything the easy way? Not since I've known you my boy, and that's been a long time. You don't need that arm to make love, eat food or kiss a pretty girl. So I don't want to hear it. You're alive...embrace the dolce vida! You have so many people that love you...and you'll get better. You're Italian after all," Marco nodded at him firmly.

"I'm British," Killian countered and Marco made a dismissive sound. "You're the closest thing I have to a son, and you're just as stubborn as any Italian. As far as I am concerned, I've passed my stubbornness onto you, and you're going to be as good as new in no time."

Emma appeared back in the doorway with two coffees. "You are stubborn Killian, that is true, " she smiled at him, handing Marco a coffee, and trying not to look at his poor attempt at hiding the tiny rum bottle. She rolled her eyes, and pulled up a chair next to the old man. Killian's eyes drooped a bit, and Marco took this a his cue to leave, fussing over tucking Killian into the bed, and kissing his cheek several more times. He hugged Emma tightly on his way out, giving her a fatherly forehead kiss before leaving the room.

"Get some sleep Killian," Emma told Killian, tucking her chair in closer to the bed, and brushing the hair out of his face.

"Be here when I wake up?" Killian asked in a drowsy voice, eyes fluttering closed. Emma nodded, and she reached for his hand, linking fingers with him before he nodded off.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Thanks everyone for hanging in for an update. I actually had something personal hit close to home the day after I wrote this, and I needed to step back for a few days. This chapter is mostly fluff...I feel lie we all need it. All of your reviews are wonderful wonderful little gifts to me, and I wish I could give you all hugs!**

 **I've also started a new little story… keep your eyes peeled!**

* * *

Six Weeks Later:

"Killian," Emma called as she struggled with bags in the front door of his houseboat, "Can you give me a hand?" Killian looked up from the counter, frustration plastered across his features.

"Actually, not so much," he deadpanned back, before slamming a knife onto the counter and walking back towards his room. Emma sighed, and dropped the groceries on the counter.

She let him mull in his room for a bit, before knocking on the door frame softly and entering. His back was to her on the bed, and he was gazing out over the water. His left hand was cradled in his lap. "Hey," Emma said softly, sitting behind him on the bed, and resting her forehead on his back, between his shoulder blades. "I'm sorry. That was a poor choice of words. I didn't think…"

Killian cut her off, "S'ok Swan, I know you didn't mean anything by it. This is just…this is hard for me."

Emma scooted further up the bed, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Killian, you're doing great. The doctors…"

"Sod the doctors," Killian grumbled, and stared down at his hand. His face looked pained, and he concentrated, thumb twitching slightly. He sighed heavily, and Emma reached for the hand, giving it a squeeze, and kissing it softly.

"I hate having you do everything for me. I feel like an invalid," Killian spoke softly, and a silent tear fell down his cheek. Emma pulled him back on the bed, and rolled him over to face her. She wiped the tear from his face, and kissed his damp cheek.

"You saved my life Killian. _My life._ The very least I can do is help you out in the kitchen, pick up things once in a while, and cut some fish. I'm happy to, because this is…this is where I want to be. Here. With you." Emma held his gaze, as she told him all of this in earnest.

Killian nodded softly, and Emma threw her leg over his hip and drew him closer. His eyebrow shot up, and Emma smirked. "Ready to go cook?" she asked, and he growled, rolling her on top of him.

"In a minute," he said with a matching smirk, bringing her laughing smile down for a kiss.

"WHERE IS IT?!" David burst through the door into the houseboat with an annoyed looking Mary Margaret trailing in his wake.

Emma and Killian smiled at each other quickly, before Killian put on a very somber face. "Listen, mate," he started, face full of apologies, "there was an accident. I pre-heated the oven to the wrong temperature, and got a little distracted… I'm afraid it didn't make it."

David dropped to his knees, and Mary Margaret looked Killian, and shook her head. "Killian, I know you're fucking with him. I had to hear about this fucking crab dip for weeks. I swear to god if you don't produce a bowl of that right this second…" she warned, and Emma broke into giggles. Killian pulled a large casserole dish from the oven, and placed it on the table.

"Happy Birthday mate," Killian laughed as David scrambled to the table, still on his knees, and placed his chin on the table, next to the crab dip, inhaling deeply.

"I've missed you my old friend," he cooed to the casserole dish, and Emma looked sympathetically at Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes, and lightly kicked David with her shoe, "David, get off of the floor. You're a guest in someone's home, seriously."

David scrambled up into a chair, and frantically searched the food on the table for crackers, chips…any vehicle for the consumption of his most favorite thing. Emma handed him a bowl of crackers, and he grabbed one, plunging it into the dip.

"Mate, it's hot," Killian warned, but David shoved the chip into his mouth, before spitting it back out into his hand.

"HOT!" David yelled, before blowing hardily on the chip and dip mess now in his hand, "The dip has betrayed me!" Mary Margaret looked with playful annoyance at David, and then up to Emma.

"Wine?" Emma offered. She was answered with an enthusiastic "YES!" The girls giggled in the corner, as Killian dropped a beer on the table next to David, who was blowing on multiple chips covered in dip that he lined up on a napkin.

"Oooo beer, thanks bud," he offered up, and Killian plopped down in a chair at the table. David took a sip and went back to blowing on the piping hot dips.

"Sorry this is a little belated," Killian started, itching behind his ear a little in embarrassment.

David pointed down to the bowl of dip in front of him, "Dude, as long as I get dip… I don't care when we have my birthday party!"

"I'm trying to apologize and thank you mate," Killian started before David held up one hand in protest, slowly closing his mouth around a crab dip covered cracker. His eyes closed, and he fell back against the chair, groaning loudly.

"David!" Mary Margaret scolded, blushing at the sexual sounds that were falling from her boyfriend.

"Mary Margaret… I told you, I have no control over myself when I am around the crab dip. The most perfect, lovely, amazing dip of sin. Yes you are. I love you so!" David went from being on the defensive to cooing into the dip. Emma snorted into her wine, and guided Mary Margaret to the front door, taking a seat outside on the small deck.

"That man is ridiculous," Mary Margaret said laughing, and Emma smiled at her face. Pure love.

"Yeah, but you love him," Emma told her, and her friend nodded. "That is so very true," she answered, taking a thoughtful sip of wine.

"I have to say Emma, I miss you around the loft. You've practically moved in here," Mary Margaret started after a few minutes, beating around the bush in her very Mary Margaret motherly way.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just… he needs me here. There's so much, there's so much he can't do yet," Emma tried to explain.

Mary Margaret nodded, "That's true Emma, but I don't think that's why you're still here. I mean, he's getting mobility back, right?"

"Slowly. Painfully slow," Emma responded quickly, "I just… I want to be here with him. Help him if I can, just…"

"Home," Mary Margaret said simply, to Emma's questioning face. "Emma, he's your home. You love him." Emma shrugged and took a sip of her wine, and Mary Margaret gave her a knowing look.

"Well, since you're spending so much time here, I had to get a new roommate. So I will need you to get the rest of your stuff out," Mary Margaret said cheerfully.

"Wait, what?" Emma asked, confusion on her face. Mary Margaret gave her head a little nod, and tried to contain her smile, "Yeah well, that is if the new roommate doesn't move in here and try to marry the crab dip before he marries me."

"Wait... wait wait…" Emma put her wine down and leaned forward, and Mary Margaret held up her hand.

The squeals from the outside caught both David and Killian's attention from inside. "What is that about?" Killian asked David, eyebrow cocked.

David shoved another chip in his face, before answering with his mouthful, "SheprobablyjusttoldEmmathenews."

Killian wrinkled his nose at his friend, "Swallow… I didn't understand a damn thing you just said. What now?"

David took a swig of his beer, before repeating, "She probably just told Emma the news."

"What news?" Killian asked, interest perked.

"If I don't gorge myself to death on this crab dip, I'm going to marry that woman," he said.

"You've been saying that for years," Killian looked un-amused. David laughed, "Yeah but now there's a ring. So she gets to hold me to it." Killian choked on his beer, sputtering for a few moments. "Wait…wait… really?"

David nodded, his mouth again full. Killian got up from the table and wrapped his friend in a one armed hug, fiercely. "Whoa now," David mumbled, giving his friend a bro pat on the back.

Killian pulled back and punched David's shoulder. "It's about time!" he exclaimed, before throwing the front door open, Emma and Mary Margaret were talking animatedly, and Killian scooped up Mary Margaret in a similar one armed bear hug. "Killian!" Mary Margaret squealed as he lifted her from the ground, before placing a kiss on her cheek.

"We have to celebrate!" Killian exclaimed, as David made an appearance in the doorway, chewing away. "I thought we were celebrating my birthday?" he asked, and Killian made a disbelief face. "Yeah, we were, but now you're ENGAGED! Where's my good rum?" he questioned as he went back into the house to search.

David smiled at Mary Margaret, inching forward for a kiss, and Emma excused herself.

"You taste like crab dip," she could hear Mary Margaret giggle as she shut the door to let them have a moment.

Emma let out a sigh. It was funny how she had become such a part of these people's lives, and the town's, and Killian's.

"Hello?" Emma called softly and heard Killian rummaging around in his bedroom. Their bedroom.

"Whatcha doin?" Emma asked, propping herself up in the doorway. Killian pulled a dusty bottle of rum out of the back of the closet. "Found it!" Killian exclaimed, and Emma cocked her head.

"And that would be?" Emma asked, walking forward and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Killian smiled sadly, taking a seat next to her and fondling the label of the bottle, which was starting to peel back. "This was a bottle of rum that Liam got David and me one day. He said on a special occasion, he was going to open it up for us. That we'd just know when that was. I think today is that day."

Emma laced her fingers in with his left hand, and gave it a squeeze. His thumb twitched across her skin, before his fingers suddenly curled into hers. They both looked up at each other in surprise, before looking back at their hands still linked. Killian moved his thumb across her skin, softly, and twitchy, but with more movement than had happened in six weeks. Emma's smile widened, matching Killian's and suddenly he pounced on her, left hand on her face. Finally able to touch her the way he had wanted to in the last six weeks. He kissed her fiercely, bottle falling to the floor with a thud, and both of them reveling in each other.

"Emma Swan," Killian gasped for air as he pulled back from her lips, "I love you."

A grin spread across her face, and she pulled Killian back to her lips, running her hands through his hair.

They finally broke apart when they heard Mary Margaret threaten to take away the crab dip from David if he didn't stop eating it. Emma laughed against Killian's lips, and they kissed once more before he helped her off the bed. He smoothed her hair down, and kissed her forehead, lips, and the tip of her nose. She crinkled it in response, and bumped affectionately into him, pulled him out of the door, fingers still linked with his, to go save David from himself.

And for the rest of the evening, the drama of the past few weeks was forgotten. Libations were poured, copious hugs were given, and the foursome enjoyed each others company and the many reasons to celebrate. At the end of the night, the rum bottle was empty, and David was snoring on the hide-a-bed, Mary Margaret tucked in beside him. In his lap, with his right arm clutching it firmly, sat the empty casserole dish that once held his true love. Both Killian and Emma snickered at the sight, and Emma snapped a photo, before they both retired to their own room, blissfully full and happy.


	15. Chapter 15

A few weeks later, things seemed to be back to normal. The fish market was open regular hours. Killian's hand was on the mend, and although he could move it quite a bit, it would never be quite the same. Emma took to cutting most of the fish, and doing the things that required a bit more finger dexterity. Settling into the cooler winter months, the trips to the wholesalers has also slowed down, but when they did go, Killian insisted on driving and lifting as "therapy."

Walsh took a plea bargain that reduced his jail time (which made both Killian and Emma furious) and in turn, he gave up all the information he had on Neal. Turned out, Neal was several steps ahead of them, and wasn't able to be apprehended. With flyers up all around not only their state, but the entire Northeast, it wasn't going to be long until he was. With Walsh's confession, Emma was cleared of any wrongdoing in the robbery, allowing her peace of mind. Both she and Killian settled back into a routine, and tried not to focus on the fact that Neal was still out in the world. David assured them that he would keep them safe, jokingly adding that they could thank him in crab dip. Mary Margaret had slapped him.

One afternoon after cutting fish, Emma came back into the office and sat herself down on Killian's lap, much to his surprise.

"All the fish is cut. It's raining cats and dogs. Let's close early and go out to dinner," she proposed, nuzzling into his neck. He chuckled warmly, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

"Alright love, that sounds perfect. Maybe a shower first?" he questioned, pulling a large scale out of her ponytail. She crinkled her nose at the fish scale, and huffed. "I suppose I could be coerced into a shower, given the right motivation…" she nuzzled his neck with her nose again, and instead of a chuckle, this time she got a soft moan as her lips made contact with the skin below his ear. Lacing his fingers into her ponytail, he guided her head up and pressed his lips to hers.

"I believe I can certainly find some sort of motivation for you lass," he murmured against her skin, before nipping at her bottom lip, and she giggled. "Let me just shut this down first," he said as he reached for the computer mouse. A boat on the screen caught Emma's eye.

"Wait...what's this?" she asked, placing her hand over his on the mouse.

"It's nothing love, he said as he went to minimize the window, and Emma pulled his hand away and turned to look him in the eye. "Oh no… don't lie. What's going on?"

Killian scratched behind his ear nervously, "I was...well, I was looking at boats."

"Boats?" Emma asked, confused as to what he was getting at, "Like, a fishing boat? Or a recreational boat?"

Killian sighed a little, "I'm not sure actually. I'm just looking...it's just, when we were out on that boat, you know...on the way out to the island, it just...it reminded me about how much I used to love being on the water. And all of this happened," Killian gestured to his hand, "and I just...life is too short for me to be scared to do something. Liam wouldn't want that for me. I could have lost a lot more than what I have, and I thought maybe… maybe I should go through with our plans."

"Plans?" Emma asked, and Killian nodded. "We always talked about either fishing or lobstering. Alternating days in the market and on a vessel, maybe one like this?" Killian clicked up a picture of a small skiff, and then to a larger, commercial vessel.

Emma smiled at Killian and gently kissed his lips. "I think this is a great idea. Brilliant even!" Killian's tentative smile bloomed across his face. "You'd be a right pirate then," Emma joked, and pinched his side playfully.

"Oy!" Killian yelped, and proceeded to tickle Emma's sides. Emma keeled over with laughter, and tried to squirm away from Killian's grasp but he held her tight, tickling her without mercy.

"I give! I give! KILLIAN!" Emma shrieked with laughter, and before she knew it, Killian had her on her feet and against the desk. She laughed a few seconds more before she saw his eyes darken with lust. He ran his hands up her shirt and across her skin, hands splayed against the skin of her ribs, pulling her against him. His head dipped down and captured her mouth with his. Emma's hands wrapped around him, and ran through his hair, their lips locked in a dance with only one conclusion. Killian's hands ran back down her side, and tugged hard on her leggings, yanking them down enough for access, spinning her around so her back was facing him. He ran his fingers down her spine before leaning over and kissing the back of her neck. Emma moaned, and braced herself on her hands, splayed on the desktop.

"My Emma," Killian whispered in her hair as he undid his belt, and his pants fell to the floor around his ankles. His fingers moved to the waistband of her underwear and lingered there, tracing the edges, before pulling them down. Emma arched her back, and Killian leaned down to run his nose up her spine, leaving kisses in his wake.

Sliding into her always felt like home. Killian knew she was ready for him… she always was. "Killian," Emma whispered, and Killian interlaced his right hand with hers, fingers entwining as he moved with her. His other hand moved to her front, working its way from her heaving chest to her aching core, and moving his fingers with the speed of his thrusts. Killian moved his mouth over her neck, teasing the spot behind her ear, and worshiping the line of her neck.

Murmured whispers and heaving breathing carried them each until they reached their peak, and when Emma fell around Killian, he followed, lips on her neck, breathing her name into her skin.

Killian collapsed back into his office chair and brought Emma with him, pulling her into his arms, and kissing her temple, cheek, and lips.

"I love you Emma Swan," he whispered against her mouth. Emma smiled against his lips, before pulling him towards her, and kissing him fiercely. She pulled back slightly, resting her forehead against his, and let out a deep sigh, before her stomach let out a loud rumble.

Both Killian and Emma burst into giggles. "I love you too, but I am going to need some food, Killian. Stat!" Emma laughed, standing up and righting her clothes. Killian gave her ass a playful smack, and she scampered away from him to turn off the open light.

* * *

A few hours later, a very full and slightly tipsy Emma leaned into the shoulder of one Killian Jones. Opting for bar food, they met up with David and Mary Margaret at the Rabbit Hole for an early dinner and drinks. Emma was content with her head tucked against Killian's shoulder, nursing a beer. David and Killian were in a lively conversation, Killian gesturing with his good hand wildly (the rum probably had something to do with that) while his injured hand was playing softly with the tips of Emma's golden locks. His gesturing was knocking Emma's head up and down, and so with a huff she ducked out from under his arm, and shifted away.

Killian was in the middle of regaling them with a tale (that both she and David had heard many times before) so she took a pause in the conversation to nudge Killian about the earlier boat conversation.

"Killian, did you tell David about your potential purchase yet?" Emma offered up, and just like that, the topic was changed. Killian informed David of the idea of getting a boat and continuing with the original plan that he and Liam had tried to set in motion.

"That's a wonderful idea!" David exclaimed, and immediately started talking types of boats, pulling his phone out from his pocket and showing Killian some of the boats he himself had looked at.

"Oh god.. please do not let him bring home another boat," Mary Margaret whispered to Emma, who giggled softly.

"Let's go look at some this week," David urged Killian on, and Killian's excitement grew.

"That's a great idea mate! We can make a day of it! I know of several boat dealers down in Portland."

"I can check Craigslist," David offered up, "Sometimes you can find really good deals there. That's where I found mine."

"And that's the only one we're going to have for the time being," Mary Margaret warned him, taking a sip of her wine. Emma smiled at her playful scolding.

"You have my word that only one vessel will be procured during this trip, and that vessel shall only be mine," Killian vowed to Mary Margaret, and Emma rolled her eyes at the dramatic nature of his statement.

The boys went back to chatting about boats, and Mary Margaret turned to Emma, looking a bit nervous.

"You ok?" Emma asked, taking a sip of her beer.

Mary Margaret nodded, and took another sip of her wine. "Come on, what's up?" Emma asked in response to her jitters.

"Well, I was wondering if you would come shopping with me?" she asked tentatively.

Emma looked at her with confusion. "Of course I will. Why would you act so nervous to ask me that?"

"Wedding dress shopping, actually," Mary Margaret continued, "I know it's a lot to ask, and it's not for everyone, but since my parents have passed, and I don't have many girl friends…"

"I'd love to," Emma interrupted Mary Margaret, and reached out to give her hand a squeeze. Mary Margaret sighed, and gave a little squeeze back. "Oh thank god. I was afraid I might have to ask Granny, or take Ruby with me, and then I'd probably come back with a blood red dress cut up to my hooha," Mary Margaret laughed, and David's eyebrows raised.

"Not that I would mind that," he commented, and Mary Margaret slapped his arm. Emma smiled at the joking ease of the two. They really were perfect for each other. She wasn't sure how helpful she would be wedding dress shopping, but she couldn't imagine turning down a shopping trip with the woman who had helped her out so much. Killian caught her gazing at the couple, and gave her leg a squeeze. She turned to smile at him, and he gave her a quick peck on the forehead, before returning to his conversation with David.

"So, any dresses in mind?" Emma asked, and Mary Margaret eagerly snatched her phone from her purse and began to pull up photos of dresses she had saved. Killian gave her leg another squeeze as he watched her interact with the bubbly Mary Margaret. She had settled in so much with his friends, it was like she was meant to be here the whole time.

"You know, it's your turn next," David said in hushed tones to him. Killian rolled his eyes at his friend. "Sod off mate," he answered with a laugh.

Both pairs of friends ended the evening deciding on dates for dress and boat shopping, toasting to good times and fast friends, and stumbling out of the pub at an hour that they would all regret the next day.

Unfortunately, all four of the friends missed the figure standing on the corner of the alley behind the pub, eyes peering from the darkness at the couples heading home. He watched. And he waited.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. The holidays were brutal but no time like winter to get back to work! This is a short chapter, but enjoy_!


	16. Chapter 16

Emma fell back into a soft padded couch in the fitting room of what had to have been the fourth dress store that Mary Margaret had hauled them to. The day was dragging, and dress after dress had been all wrong. Mary Margaret was getting frustrated and tired, and so was Emma. Emma wasn't cut out for this kind of day, but more importantly, she wanted her friend to be happy, and she just wasn't.

Mary Margaret slumped down next to her after looking through a rack of dresses, finding nothing that suited her. "Emma, this is not as fun as I was hoping," Mary Margaret confessed in a meek voice, resting her head on Emma's shoulder.

The day had been filled with rude sales people with ugly dresses, and her patience was done, Emma knew there were tears threatening to fall from her friend's eyes. "Ok, I can fix this. Give me one second ok? I'm going to make a quick phone call," Emma patted her friend on the knee and got up from the couch, while the salesperson brought another hideous dress out to Mary Margaret's horrified expression.

Outside, Emma grabbed her smartphone, (something she had never had before, but Killian insisted that she now have) and went to dial a number when she caught the scent of something familiar. She stiffened. It was Neal's cologne. She hadn't smelled it in such a long time, but right now, the air around her smelled like him. She whipped around on the sidewalk frantically, looking for a sign of anyone that even slightly resembled him, but no one was around. She took a deep breath.

Neal did not own a monopoly on that scent. It could have been anyone. But even so, she made her phone call quickly and walked with purpose back into the store. Mary Margaret stood in front of a mirror looking like a Disney princess on crack when she arrived back in the dressing room.

"Take that shit off… New plan," Emma commanded to Mary Margaret, giving an apologetic glance over to the bridal store employee who looked less than amused.

"Are you ok Emma?" Mary Margaret asked as she pulled the dress carefully over her head.

"Yeah, I just…yeah I'm fine. Let's get out of here though, ok?" Emma asked, still shaking off the sudden flooding of her senses outside the store.

A few minutes later, they both exited the latest bridal shop of horrors, and Emma led her.

"Let's go chica, into the car," Emma commanded, gesturing towards the door. Mary Margaret looked at her with skepticism. "What's going on here?" she asked.

Emma sighed. "Are you having fun today?"

Mary Margaret's voice admitted defeat, "Honestly? No."

"Have you found a dress you even remotely want to get married in?"

"No."

"Ok, so I made my point. Get in the car," Emma said gesturing to the open door again. Mary Margaret opened her mouth to say something, before Emma stomped over to her as she clamped her mouth closed, and escorted her to the car. Inside, Emma popped a bottle of champagne, and poured two glasses, handing one to Mary Margaret.

"Now listen, I don't know much about weddings, but this is _not_ how things should be going. So, we are going to take this very lovely, nice car to the best wedding dress boutique in the city, and we're going to have champagne, and you are going to be pampered like the bride-to-be that you are."

* * *

A 20-minute ride later, the duo was escorted into a very private looking business by a bustling, slightly balding, middle-aged man who immediately took to Mary Margaret in an endearing way.

"Come, sit," he gestured to Mary Margaret to make herself comfortable in a small parlor. He offered both the women another glass of champagne, which Emma gladly took.

"So, what do you know about us?" the man asked, and Mary Margaret looked confused.

"Ah…um…I'm sorry I don't know much," she began, and Emma interrupted her.

"Archie, I'm sorry that we didn't get a chance to talk before. You know how Marco can be, but he assured me that you are the best wedding planner in the city, and not only that, but you have, and I quote, "the most loveliest of dresses suited for such a stunning bride as the future Mrs. Nolan"." The corner of Archie's eyes crinkled when he heard this, and he nodded his head in appreciation.

"See, this woman right here is wonderful. And she deserves to have a wonderful day, and the most perfect dress. And Marco told me that you are the person to come to when all else fails."

Archie smiled softly at Emma, and then at Mary Margaret, taking her hand. "Let's make you the most beautiful bride of all, ok?"

Mary Margaret nodded her head yes, glancing at Emma with a relieved expression, as Archie tucked her arm in his, and started to escort her around the surprisingly large bridal shop.

"Let's think about words to describe what you are thinking of as far as a dress," and Mary Margaret started on an overwhelming list. Archie looked up at Emma with a playfully panicked expression, before winking and going back to giving Mary Margaret his full attention, listening intently. After a few minutes, he had Mary Margaret settle back in a spacious dressing room, and gave a list of dresses to one of his employees to fetch.

"Emma," Archie spoke to get Emma's attention as he walked towards her, "sometimes I like to ask an accompanying relative or friend for a few descriptive words, of perhaps what they would think of when they thought of their friend, or their friend's dress. Would you mind helping me out?" Archie sat on a small stool next to Emma in the plush waiting room, and Emma pursed her lips as she thought.

"Well, Mary Margaret is kind, and soft. Nature lover, motherly… a school teacher so she has all the patience in the world. I want to say she can be even a little old fashioned sometimes, but that's not the right word. Maybe, classic? Yes. She's classic."

Archie smiled at her, thanking her, before calling another employee over and asking her to pull dress model SW7. Emma looked at him with curiosity, and he winked at her again, "I always like to throw in a wild card that the bride might not pick."

Emma smiled, and took another sip of her champagne. "Now," Archie smiled at her mischievously, "What kind of dress do YOU want to try on?"

Emmachoked on her drink, sputtering and coughing a few times, and Archie grinned like the cat that ate the canary. "I can't… I mean, no, thank you. I'm not much for dresses anyway and I think maybe a wedding dress might just be…"

"A bit much?" Archie offered up, and Emma chuckled, taking a breath. "Yeah maybe a little? Sorry," she offered up with a shrug, and Archie just smiled, humming a "We will see…" as he stood and made his way to Mary Margaret's dressing room.

Every dress that Mary Margaret tried on was stunning. Marco hadn't steered her wrong with this one. She remembered the visit to her pub a few weeks prior, when Mary Margaret couldn't help but excitedly send her photo after photo of dresses, and texts of plans.

 _Emma laid her head down on the bar, and as Marco brought her a glass of wine,he patted her on the head._

 _"What is so wrong you beautiful woman? What do you have to be upset about?" he had asked with a chuckle, running the cloth over the already clean bar, in his 'Marco way'. "Mary Margaret wants me to come dress shopping with her next week. And I am happy to, of course, but I also dread it because I hate shopping. And I feel, and I know it's not the best train of thought, that expectations won't meet reality. "_

 _"Hmmm… I have a friend in the wedding business," Marco mused, "I could call and get a reservation there for you if you want."_

 _Emma frowned a little. "Marco, I think… well I don't want to rain on Mary Margaret's parade. I think maybe I should let her plan this one."_

 _Marco nodded, but then paused, "Well, how about I do this: Archie that owns the place is a good friend of mine. Why don't I call him and see if you guys can drop in, just… just in case. The future Mrs. Noland is so lovely, I would hate for her to have a bad day." Emma smiled, and reached across the bar to give the older man's hand a squeeze, and he tapped his cheek, coaxing out a peck on the cheek._

 _"Thank you," Emma said sincerely, sitting back down on her barstool and letting out a sigh._

Emma let out another little sigh thinking back on the moment. Thank God for Marco. Mary Margaret peaked her head out of the dressing room, "Emma, thank you again," she said across to her, "All of these dresses are so beautiful. I just don't know how I am going to choose!"

Emma laughed, and Archie puttered around, taking a dress from Mary Margaret, and handing her another through the door. "Now this one, Ms. Blanchard, is a special one," he informed her, and Emma heard her giggle at the way Archie emphasized 'Special'.

There were a few zipping sounds that came from the dressing room, and the shuffling of fabric, and then quiet.

"Ms. Blanchard?" Archie asked, tapping on the door softly. He looked towards Emma, who rose from the couch and headed to the door. Before she reached it, Mary Margaret emerged, and Emma stopped.

"This is the one," Mary Margaret whispered, "I know it is." Archie became very animated, moving her in front of a large three-sided mirror. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she did a little twirl. It has a soft yoke neckline, cap sleeves, and a slight flare at the bottom. A delicate lace with soft floral patterns and embroidery highlighted Mary Margaret's figure, and the small train behind it was perfect.

"I would have never picked this dress, but it's absolutely perfect. Archie, you're a miracle worker!" Mary Margaret exclaimed and Archie blushed, before gesturing to Emma.

"Thank Ms. Swan over here. It was with her help that this dress made its way to you," Emma and Mary Margaret's eyes locked in the mirror, and they both smiled at each other.

"So we have found one dress!" Archie exclaimed, and after Emma snapped a quick photo with her phone of Mary Margaret in the dress, he ushered the bride-to-be back in the dressing room with one of his assistants to take fitting and hemming measurements.

"And now Ms. Swan, for you," he gestured to an open fitting room with a single dress inside. Emma crossed her arms across her chest.

"What did I say earlier?" she asked, and Archie grinned at her. "Ah yes, I know what you said, but Marco said that you are not to leave with one, but two dresses today, and I am not to let you exit the building without the perfect dress for a date with, oh how did he put it? 'That stubborn rum loving man who can't cook and who Emma is too good for' I believe was the phrase."

Emma sighed and stepped into the dressing room, zipping down a garment bag that hung against the wall. Simple, pale pink, it was floor length, which just a bit of tulle underneath. It seemed to wrap several different ways, and Emma stripped out of her boots and jeans, and struggled with the dress itself.

A knock on the door was a relief, and Archie came in slowly, showing her the different ways to tie the dress, for several different looks. Wrapping it around her waist for a Grecian spin on it, he quickly pinned her hair up, and escorted her out of the dressing room before she could catch a look at herself in the mirror.

"Oh Emma," Mary Margaret exclaimed, as Archie positioned her in front of the mirror that Mary Margaret stood in just moments before. The dress was perfect. Archie clasped his hands together in joy. Emma hadn't worn a dress in longer than she could remember. She had never been a bridesmaid, or had an occasion to wear such a garment, but here she stood.

"Killian won't know what to think," Mary Margaret said softly behind her, and Emma looked suddenly at her with concern. "In a good way Emma. You look beautiful," she said reassuringly, and Emma fiddled with a curl as it fell into her face.

"I don't even have anywhere to wear this," she said almost wistfully, and Archie reappeared beside the two women.

"Mary Margaret, your dress will be ready in two weeks for pick-up. I just want to raise that hem just a smidge. And Emma, lovely woman, that dress is perfect on you already. No need to do any alterations. I can pack it up for you and you lovely ladies can enjoy your ride back to Storybrooke."

Emma turned in the dress, "Archie, this was fun, but I cannot afford this dress." Archie looked at her with a slightly furrowed brow.

"My dear, did you not hear me earlier? Marco told me that you two are to both leave with the perfect dresses. They have been paid for," Archie explained, helping Emma down from the raised platform in-front of the mirror.

"What!?" the women exclaimed at the same time. Archie sighed with exasperation. "Yes ladies, Marco purchased both of these lovely garments for you two today. There will be no arguing, the deed is done, and you both look lovely." He kissed both of their cheeks, and left his assistant to finish packing up Emma's dress, leaving the women in shock.

* * *

"Thank you so much, I'll just go get the initial paperwork ready, and we can proceed with the offer," a young woman's words graced Killian's ears, and David clapped him on the back.

"Alright mate, are you happy?" David asked with a chuckle, and Killian leaned back in the office chair he was seated in, and rubbed a hand across his face. "I didn't come here to buy today," he admitted, chewing on a bottom lip.

"Hey now, don't have buyer's remorse yet," David countered, nudging his shoulder. "You're just putting in an offer. And you want Emma to see it first, right?"

Killian nodded, and his phone rang. Checking the screen, a grin spread across his face.

"Speak of the devil," Killian answered the phone, and he could hear Emma's chuckle on the other end.

"My ears were burning so I decided to give you a call," Emma joked back, and smiled at Mary Margaret who was rolling her eyes at her change of tone. Emma bit her bottom lip. "How's boat shopping going?"

"Good, really good actually," Killian started, and gestured to David he was going to step outside the small office. Closing the door behind him, he moseyed away from the building towards the docks, flanked by boats on either side as he strolled down. "I think I found one I really like Swan."

"You did?! Tell me about it," Emma's enthusiastic voice through the phone was the best sound in the world to Killian Jones.

"Well, she's about 100 feet long, 40 feet wide, solid wood planking, some space for some canons… a regular Jolly Roger!" Killian joked, inciting giggles from Emma on the other end.

"Come on Jones, for real… tell me about it," Emma said, and Killian sighed. "I promise I will tell you all about her tonight. I'm making an offer, but nothing set in stone. The boat is owned by someone else, so it'll take a few days to hear anything back. Plus, I want to show her to you before I make any decisions."

"You do?" Emma asked.

"Of course Swan. You are my family… I want to share this with you."

Emma paused on the other end of the phone. "I love you," was the only response she could think of.

"And I you, love," Killian answered back beaming.

"Speaking of sharing, I have some news," Emma announced.

Killian pivoted on his heel and began a stroll back towards the office. "Oh? Do share Swan. Do not keep me in suspense."

"Well, your Marco…"

"My Marco?

"Yes _your_ Marco not only helped to find a dress for Mary Margaret today but bought it for her, AND purchased an over-the-top dress for yours truly."

Killian grinned… the old man was full of surprises. "It's not over the top Killian it's lovely!" Mary Margaret yelled from the background, and Killian chuckled into the phone.

"Mr. Jones, I've got your paperwork ready," a voice called from a few feet away, and Killian nodded at the woman, indicating that he would be in presently.

"Love, I have to go sign some paperwork… nothing final but I am going to put an offer down. I'm sure the dress is lovely, and I cannot wait to see you in it," Killian started to wrap up the call. Emma huffed in response on the other end.

"Are you guys on your way back to Storybrooke?" he asked.

Emma nodded as she spoke, "Yeah Mary Margaret drove. We should be back in about thirty minutes. You guys?"

"See you in a few hours then love. Want me to pick up dinner?" Killian offered.

"My hero!" Emma said in a girly, high-pitched voice, before adding, "Don't forget the onion rings though, seriously."

"I would never," Killian said with mock outrage, before glancing up at a gesturing David tapping his watch. "I really have to go love, see you shortly."

"Bye Jones," Emma added, and Killian clicked off the phone, jogging back into the small building.

"Sorry about that Mrs. Mendell," Killian apologized as he sat back down at the desk, and the woman smiled at him.

"That's ok Mr. Jones, and please, call me Tamara. Was that the lovely Emma I've heard so much about today?"

"One and the same. And please, call me Killian as well. Enough with the formalities. I'm buying, well maybe, buying a boat from you after all!" Killian jested, and Tamara smiled warmly at him.

"I think this boat is going to be quite something for you and Emma. Just you wait and see," she said with a grin, before flipping the pages of the document before them open, and showing Killian where to sign.


	17. Chapter 17

Emma sighed as she kicked her feet up into Killian's lap. They landed with a small 'hoof' on his part, and she smiled as she popped the last part of an onion ring into her mouth. Killian slowly let his hands wander down her sweatpant covered legs to her feet, and began to massage the arch of them gently.

Sighing again contently, she let her head fall back against the back of the couch. "Happy?" Killian asked the now drowsy woman half in his lap.

Emma hummed a yes to him, and he grinned ducking his head, and kneading her arch a little deeper, smiling softly at the groans. Killian had gushed about the boat over dinner to Emma, and she had listened intently. Although he was excited about it, it did sound like he was slightly talked into it. She chewed her lip as she thought about it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Killian asked, and Emma rolled her head to the side. "It's nothing," she said softly, and nestled her now very relaxed foot under one of Killian's legs, and propped her other one up on his lap. "Love…" Killian said in a voice that knew she was hiding something.

"It's just, and don't misunderstand me here, but I had an image of you getting a boat with history. Like a story… a bit more character."

Killian's brow furrowed at this. "Really?" he asked concerned, "Do you not think it's a wise move?"

"No, not that at all. I just want to make sure it's a good fit for you, that's all. If you love her, I am sure I will too," Emma reached out and affectionately scratched his arm.

Killian chewed on his lower lip in thought, so Emma changed the subject.

"Mary Margaret wanted me to ask you a favor, by the way," said Emma with a slight moan, as he rubbed his thumb deep into the arch of her foot.

"Yes love?" Killian looked up at her with expectant eyes.

"Well," Emma started, flexing her legs and switching her feet in Killian's hands, "she wants to learn how to make your famous crab dip."

Killian stopped rubbing her feet, and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Now, why in the world would I do that love? It's the only way I can keep Dave in line, bloody wanker," he said with a chuckle.

"As a wedding present?" Emma said, her voice tinged with a bit of pleading. Killian stared at her face, as her lower lip started to protrude into a pout.

"You're pouting? Really?" Killian asked, and Emma shrugged.

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, I am pouting," Emma said with a laugh, before grinning at defeat as his shoulders slumped. "OK fine," Killian conceded.

Emma clamoured into his lap, straddling him. "You are the best," Emma murmured, sliding her hands around his neck. "Mmmmm, well don't think I did it for free," Killian jested, as Emma settled into his lap.

"Oh?" she asked, grinding down ever so slightly.

"Everything has a price," Killian growled, before lifting her up as she let out a squeal and taking her to the bedroom. Emma threw her head back and laughed as he threw her on the bed, crawling on top of her and peppering kissing to her neck and collarbone.

"I can't wait until I can take you on the boat, and do this under the open stars," he purred against her skin, nuzzling. Emma let out a little sigh, and let her fingers run through his hair, from the base of his neck up, to lightly scratch his scalp as he moved south down her neck to her chest, pausing to pull her shirt up and over her head, before starting again.

"I can't wait to see her. When will I..." Emma's breath hitched as Killian's hand traveled south below the waist pants of her lounge pants, "... have the pleasure of seeing this potential Jolly Roger?" Killian's eyebrow lifted at the word "pleasure" and he chuckled into her skin at the new nickname for the boat.

"Tamara said it should be cleaned and ready for a test drive, so to speak, by Sunday. And today is Thursday… so…." he explained through kisses to her stomach and inner thigh, "only a few more days until I can ravage you while sailing the seven days."

Emma giggled as his scruff tickled her legs as he moved back up, and braced himself over her again. "So, you plan on getting her then?" Emma asked, as Killian leaned down to give her an Eskimo kiss and nuzzle from her nose down her jawline to her neck.

"Only if you love her as much as I love you," he said, and Emma laughed at his line. "That's not possible," she said with mock seriousness, "So I suppose you shall never have a boat again."

"Then my love," Killian said with a glint in his eye, "I suppose we will have to find other ways to set sail."

Saturday morning found Killian in the kitchen with Mary Margaret, very carefully showing her the secrets of the crab dip. They had spent the morning cleaning the crabs, and were currently mixing all the ingredients into the bowl.

"You want to fold in the crab, so it stays in it's lump form," Killian explained, as he demonstrated a few times before passing the bowl to his friend.

Mary Margaret smiled and looked like a proud peacock as she mastered the mixing techniques. "Thank you for taking the time to show me this," Mary Margaret said for the hundredth time, and Killian smiled at her warmly. "Seriously lass, no need to keep thanking me. If it means that ol' Dave will be a little less underfoot when it comes to my cooking, this is a small price to pay," he said with a laugh, before hearing his phone ring in the living room.

"Yup, just like that," Killian inspected, before running to grab his phone. Emma's face shone brightly up at him from the screen before he swiped his finger across the screen, answering the call.

"Hello my love," Killian said warmly into the phone, and he heard Emma panting heavily on the other side of the phone. "What's wrong?" he said instantly, fearing the worst.

"I. Hate. This.," Emma breathed into the phone, "I have a stitch in my side, I am covered in dirt, and mud, and what is this? Is this a worm?!" Emma groaned into the phone, and Killian laughed. "So, I take it Dave found an activity for you guys to bond with then?"

"Killian, he wanted to do one of those tough mudder things...and I am exhausted and filthy, and all I want is a bath," she whined into the phone, to Killian's soft chuckles.

"Well dear, we're almost done here, so I will make sure to go home and run the bath for you, ok?"

Emma sighed on the other end of the phone, "Good. I need one. Also, this is your warning. Dave is hyped up on adrenaline and we're about, oh, fifteen minutes away. He just ran into the store to grab a water and energy drink...even though he does NOT need more energy. He's making us run home AFTER all this running in the first place. Oh god… here he comes. See you soon… clear out!" Emma said with a breathy giggle, before ending the call.

Mary Margaret wiped her hands on her apron, before pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Everything ok?" she asked, and Killian smiled at her, returning to the kitchen.

"Aye, but they are about 15 minutes away, so we need to clean up here," Killian said, and began to tidy the area, and had Mary Margaret finish the famous dip off with cheese, and pop it in the oven.

They finished cleaning up with time to spare, before they heard footsteps running up the stairs to the small loft apartment.

David burst through the door, wild eyed, declaring, "I SMELL CRAB DIP! WHERE IS IT?!" He immediately sprinted into the kitchen, and went to open the oven door.

"Oy! Mate! Leave that alone. I thought I would bring some over for you guys post-race, and it needs at least 15 more minutes, so keep that door closed," Killian scolded David, throwing a dish towel at him.

Mary Margaret winked at Killian from behind David's back, before wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"You smell," she laughed into his back, and he spun around and gave her an energetic kiss. "We kicked ass!" he exclaimed, before launching into a full story, as Emma came slowly through the door, dragging her feet and leaning heavily against the doorframe. While David was happily babbling on about the event, Emma's ponytail was disheveled, mud splattered her face, and she winced as she took a step into the apartment, before dramatically falling to the floor with a groan, and rolling over to look at the ceiling.

"I'm dead," she moaned, as Killian chuckled softly at her on the floor.

"No your not love," he gently chided her, pushing her side with his boot toe gently.

"Yes I am," Emma petulantly argued back, as David continued his recap of the mud and muck.

"There's another one next month, I think maybe we should…" David started before Emma stopped him.

"Dave, there is no way in hell I am ever doing that again. Killian, take me home!" Emma stated, holding her arms up to him like a child. Killian chuckled and shrugged at David, "Sorry Mate." He reached down and hauled Emma up, throwing her over his shoulder.

Emma weakly struggled, "No Killian I meant help me up. I'm too heavy!" she lightly protested, swatting at his back with an exhausted effort.

"I've carried rum barrels heavier than you love," he said, before tipping his head to Mary Margaret. "Pleasure seeing you as usual my lady, enjoy that crab dip I made," he said with a wink, and headed out the door with Emma hanging limply from his shoulder. She managed a small wave to Mary Margaret and making a 'Call Me' symbol with her hand before Killian shut the door.

At the bottom of the stairs, Killian placed Emma back on her feet, and she groaned. "Actually, maybe you should carry me," she joked, and stretched her calf muscles out on the curb. Killian chuckled, and picked bits of grass from her hair.

"That bad?" he asked, with a flicker of genuine concern. Emma smiled at him, "It sucked, and I'm never doing it again, but I'll be fine."

Killian checked his watch, "Listen, I've got an appointment for someone to look at the freezer today, it's been off the past week, and I don't know what's up with it. It's beyond my sad repair skills. Want to tag along or head back and shower?"

"Shower," Emma said before he even finished the sentence. Killian smiled at her, and wiped a little mud off her face, "Ok love, I'll see you in a bit."

Emma gave him a quick peck before slowly heading back towards the houseboat, and Killian turned towards their market.

"Well, I think the coolant system is broken," said the bearded man after he tinkered with the sides and top of the large walk in freezer, that was in the back of the store, for several hours. Killian grimaced but didn't look up from his phone as he texted the lovely woman at his home, and let her know that he would indeed be late. Although Killian wasn't usually rude, he wanted to get this man out, and head back home to Emma, who was complaining about wanting a foot rub earlier. And a back rub. Amongst other things.

"Ok mate, well, whatever you think will fix it, let's just get it fixed," Killian said, again not looking up.

"I may have to work into the night," the man suggested, shrugging his shoulders and twirling a wrench around his finger.

Killian sighed and looked up at the guy, suddenly scowling. Something about the man looked familiar. "Have we met?" he asked, suddenly feeling an uneasy feeling, "You're not the usual guy that comes out."

The man smiled and nodded, "Yeah I am new. Our other tech is on vacation." Killian nodded but looked at the man with critical eyes.

"Ok, so how long do you think this will take…" he started to ask, before his phone started ringing. It was David, so he let it go to voicemail.

"At least a few more hours," he replied, and Killian looked at his watch again. He wasn't going to get home to Emma anytime soon. It was stay and get this fixed, or have thousands of dollars of product go bad.

"Shit," Killian mumbled, and then his phone rang again. It was David, again. "Go ahead and start," Killian instructed the repairman, and walked away to take the call.

"Something's wrong!" David cried into the phone, and Killian's heart dropped. "I'll be right there," he said swiftly, hanging up the phone.

"Hey, I need to go deal with an emergency…" Killian started, but the repair man waved him off. "No problem man. If I get done here, I'll just lock the door behind me, and bill you ok?"

Killian nodded and sprinted out the door, towards Mary Margaret's loft apartment. A few minutes later he burst into the apartment, and Mary Margaret looked up with alarm.

"What the hell David!? You called Killian!" she exclaimed, and threw a tea towel at him before storming to the bedroom.

"What's going on?!" Killian asked him in a panic, and then noticed he was holding the crab dip container in front of him, sniffling. "It's not the same. Something's wrong… are you mad at me? What did I do?" David's face fell and he looked at Killian's confused face.

Mary Margaret threw open the bedroom door, "Yes, he's upset because it doesn't taste the same. Of course!" she yelled and closed the door again.

"Um mate, did you really call me here because the crab dip tastes different?" Killian asked David again, and he nodded. "It's different," he stated, like a petulant child.

"Dave, I love you but your a right ass. Do you know that?" Killian asked him striding to the table and gently smacking David across the back of the head.

David recoiled like a scolded puppy, and Killian leaned down and pointed a finger at him, hissing, "You're _fiancé_ wanted to surprise you with crab dip. I didn't make it. _She did!_ And now… you're in the dog house. You better eat that and apologize. And don't call me like that when I am at work! Jesus mate!"

He turned on his heel, leaving Dave to clean up his own mess, and headed back to the store. The door was locked, and there was a note on it that said:

 _All fixed. I'll send the bill._

Perfect. Killian didn't know how much money that would even be, but the whole evening was a wash, and he was sure Emma was at home in bed by now. Running his fingers through his hair, he headed back to his houseboat, and true to form, the lights were dark when he walked in the door. _Great._

Killian headed to the mini bar, and poured a healthy three fingers of rum, before heading out to the porch. The cold had set in, there was more than just an autumn nip in the air. Winter was around the corner, and he was going to have to make sure that Emma was bundled on their boat date the following evening. He wanted it to be special. He wanted to make Emma know that this boat was for them, and he wanted her to love it.

Killian took a solid gulp of his drink, and turned his head at the sound of the front door opening. Emma padded out, clad in his flannel pajamas, and wrapped in their spare quilt from the couch.

"Hi love," he said in a softened voice, and Emma crossed the porch, sitting down in his lap and pulling the quilt around both of them. The smell of her shampoo filled his senses, and he kissed her head, pulling her in close.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he almost whispered, and Emma shrugged. "I can hear you thinking from inside," she joked, snuggling in.

"Did everything get fixed?" she asked, linking her fingers with his spare hand.

"Aye love, it did. Though I think David is in the doghouse," he said with an irritated chortle.

"Oh?" Emma asked with sleepy curiosity.

"I'll tell you about it in the morning. Let's go to sleep," he offered, helping her up, and following her into the house.

Tucking her into bed, Killian couldn't get his brain to turn off. Something didn't feel right, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He was in for a restless night.

 **I know! I haven't updated in forever! Real life got the best of me. But I have now, so enjoy!**


	18. Chapter 18

**I am not dead. I know it's been almost a year...SORRY GUYS!**

* * *

Sunday rolled around, and Emma had come to take the reins in the morning at the market. They opened a bit later on Sundays, around 11, but the market was still open, if just for few hours.

Emma had really starting putting her own touches on the store. The pen jar on the front counter had a small yellow bow tied on it, her apron was swapped out for something with a bit more feminine print, and she took great pride in arranging the fillets neatly on the shelves… sometimes accenting them with little flowers or a shell or two she picked up. Jones Fish House was looking spiffier than ever.

"Good Morning my love," Killian said as he entered the shop shortly before opening. He gave her a quick kiss as she finished laying out the display case, and headed back to the office. She found him with his bookkeeping software open, and a worried look on his face when she came in to check on him a few minutes later.

"Hey, I am about to flip the sign to open. Everything ok?" she asked, as Killian ran a hand through his hair.

"Aye, I am just nervous about buying this boat. It's… it's a big step to get back out there, and I've been thinking about what you said. Maybe I should wait for something more me," he said with nervousness, and leaned back in his chair. Emma came over and placed a kiss on his forehead.

"Please don't let what I said deter you. Those were just words, ok?" she said, stroking his cheek. "Do you love the boat?"

Killian looked up at her, "It's a really nice boat."

Emma smiled at him, "Then get it baby." Emma's smile was reassuring and Killian let out a little sigh. "Sorry love, I am just all over the place right now. I want to make sure it is a good fit… for both of us."

"I don't know much about boats dear, but I trust you," Emma said to him with a squeeze of his hand, "And on that note, you need to get going, and I need to open. I will be out there in a few hours after I shut everything down, ok?"

Killian nodded, "Let me just finish up in here, and then I will hit the road."

Emma headed out front to flip the sign to "open" and the first after church customers started trickling in as Killian made a beeline for the door, giving her another quick kiss on his way out, and saying a few brief "hellos" to his regulars.

* * *

The day passed quickly for Emma, and as 2 o'clock settled in, she flipped the sign to closed and started the cleaning process. Since she didn't have a car, she was going to borrow David's to drive out to meet Killian at the rental place, that was too far to walk or bike.

As she was filing things away in the walk in refrigerator, in the back, she heard the bell on the door chime. _Shit, I forgot to lock the door._ She moaned internally, before calling out, "Sorry, we're closed!" out towards the lobby, and really hoping the person would bugger off and not insist she dig something out of the cooler. Shoveling ice onto the packed fish, she didn't her the lock click into place, or the scuffle of feet quietly across the store and into the back room.

"I missed you," came a voice from right behind her and Emma spun on her heel, slipping on a wet spot, and crashing to the metal floor. The back of her head smacked down hard, and the sound of the impact was sharp, echoing through the fridge.

"Fuck," Emma moaned slowly, grimacing in pain. Everything seemed to slow, and the white stars behind her eyes were blinding.

"Well, that's not exactly how I wanted for this to go, but it made my job a lot easier," the male voice bit out, as he walked over to Emma and looked down at her.

"Neal?" Emma asked, trying to focus on a face she'd never though she'd see again, but she was too sleepy just now to focus properly. Emma felt a warm stickiness run down the side of her face, and her eyes rolled back in her head. It went dark.

* * *

"Where the hell is Emma?" Killian growled to himself, calling her once more and having it go to voicemail. She was now an hour late.

Killian dialed David, and after a few rings he picked up. "David, when did Emma leave your house?" Killian asked as soon as he heard him pick up.

"Hello, nice to hear your voice too friend. I had a lovely Sunday! And yourself?" David answered with full-sarcasm.

Killian huffed into the phone, "I'm serious David. When did she leave?"

"She never got the car Killian," David said, matter-of-factly, "I just assumed you guys went down together or the plan changed."

"No, it didn't. And she's not here," Killian said with worry in his voice. He could tell that David had perked up on the other end of the phone, because he could hear him up and about in the house.

"I'll head down to the shop and call you back," he said to Killian, and hung up. Killian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Tamara poked her head out of the sales office, raising her eyebrows a bit at him. "So, I have other clients coming in in 30, Mr. Jones. You seem to be having some problems. Maybe we can just sign these and get you on out of here?" she asked sweetly.

Killian hesitated, before shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I know you put a lot of work into getting these papers done by today, but…"

Tamara smiled at him, "That's fine Mr. Jones, but I will need you to sign off your hold before you go, and that will be additional time. We have other buyers that are also interested. It should take me about 15 minutes to draw up that paperwork."

"What?" Killian asked, frustrated as he looked at his phone as it flashed a message from David that said, "Store closed. Lights off."

"Listen, just do whatever you need to do. I don't care," Killian huffed and headed to his truck.

Tamara cursed silently, and strode back to her office, dialing a number on her phone and waiting for the familiar voice on the other line. "Why are you calling so early?"

"He's knows something's off, he's headed your way," she said on the other end of the phone. "I couldn't stall him any longer."

"You're completely worthless Tamara. Do you know that? You had one job… I thought I hired you because you are some wonderful manipulator and now I have to do it all. Worthless," snapped the voice on the other end of the phone.

Tamara held the phone back from her ear a bit, shocked. "I'm… I'm sorry Neal."

The phone clicked and the line went dead.

* * *

As soon as Killian Jumped into the truck, he dialed David. "David, something isn't right. Can you head over to the houseboat and look for her?"

He could hear the hum of David's truck motor in the background. "I'm already on my way Killian. Don't speed home."

Killian looked at the speedometer and chuckled. "It's fine Dave, I know a cop. Now, go find my girl." He hung up the phone and pushed his foot down on the old trucks accelerator as the truck hit 100 heading down the road.

Storybrooke's town sign came into view faster than he thought it would, and squealing tires sounded out as he rounded the block to his houseboat, and found Dave there coming out of the house.

"She's not here," he said as Killian pulled up, frantically rolling the window down.

Killian's face was now plastered with worry and frustration.  
"Take a breath Killian. I know you are freaking out right now, but we're going to figure out where she is. Has anything happened odd lately?"

Killian ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, "Not that I can think of."

"Anything that might have spooked Emma or…"

Killian's eyes shot up with anger. "Spook? Are you saying she left me?" David raised his hands in a show of backing off. "I'm just throwing out ideas. I know she loves you, but I also know she has a past. And with the whole Walsh thing that happened…

"Oh my God. Neal…" Killian whispered as the color drained from his face.

David looked at him concerned, "Mate, I know that's where your mind goes, but rest assured…"

"No, David, I saw him the other day. I LET HIM INTO THE SHOP!" Killian started to rage, slamming his hands into the steering wheel.

David's face grew serious. "What are you talking about?"

"The other day, when you called me away from work, Neal was there. Fixing the freezer," Killian said with frustration, and David laid a hand on his arm. "He had a beard on, and a hat. I didn't realize it was him. He looked familiar but I couldn't place it."

"The freezer?" David questions and Killian's stomach plummeted.

"GO!" David yelled, as he turned and sprinted for his truck, "I'm right behind you!"

Killian's truck tore down the road and slid into a spot, slamming it into park. As he leapt from the car, he just caught the view of a man dipping around the side of the store as he pulled out. He leapt from the driver's side, and leaving the door wide open, barreled down the street after the man. The man had broken into a run, but Killian's adrenaline kicked in, and he caught him before he reached the back alley, tacking him to the pavement. As soon as he saw Neal's face, Killian saw red, and his fist made contact with the bearded man's nose.

"You son of a bitch!" Killian yelled, pummeling Neal into the pavement, "WHERE is Emma?"

The man below him laughed, and spit blood.

"Where is she?" Killian repeated, slamming his fist into his face again.

The man laughed harder, weakly choking on the blood that covered his face. "It's too late," he laughed, and Killian wrenched him off the ground and slammed his back into the brick wall of the alley.

"I swear to God, if you harmed one hair on her head," he growled, and the man cackled again.

"That's the best part," he said through twisted giggles, "I didn't even have to… this time."

David caught Killian's arm as he wound it back and aimed it at his face again.

"Killian, stop. We can't find Emma if you literally kill this guy," he said, forcefully putting his arm down and snatching Neal from him.

Neal smiled at Killian," If she's not already dead." David turned at that and nailed him right in the face, causing him to go limp.

Killian looked at David, eyebrows raised. "I love Emma too," David said simply, and Killian nodded once at him. "Let's get this guy inside."

The two men carried the now unconscious Neal into the back entrance of the seafood store, and then Killian sprinted to the walk-in fridge/freezer combo. There was blood on the floor in the fridge but no Emma.

"Shit," he cursed fiercely, and headed to the freezer, dread in his stomach. His hand reached for the freezer door, and it didn't budge.

"DAVID!" Killian yelled for his friend, who came hurrying into the small space.

"She's in here," Killian told him, "And he's changed the locks or disabled them or something."

David didn't want to shoot the lock. They were in a metal box more or less, and the bullet could easily ricochet and that wouldn't help anyone.

David quickly went back to Neal, and after shaking him a few times, kneeling next to him, the bearded man opened his eyes.

"Where are the keys?" David asked firmly. Neal chuckled a few times, before rasping out the words "Ocean."

"Shit," David cursed, and grabbed his phone from his belt. "Mary Margaret, yeah, we've got a situation down here. Call Leroy, get him to bring his welding kit over to Jones Fish ASAP. No, you stay there it's dangerous, but tell him it's a matter of life and death."

David them felt the cool, round barrel of a gun pointed at his temple. "More really a matter of just death, don't you think?"

David dropped the phone, and raised his hands up in the air.

"Alright Neal, you have my attention," he said as they both stood slowly. David glanced down at his belt and noticed the gun was gone, and cursed internally.

Neal smiled at him. "I've been a thief for years. You think I can't pickpocket a cop. Ha." He pushed David in the direction of the fridge, and Killian was furiously banging at the handle with a crowbar.

"Killian," David said as he re-entered the cold area. Killian didn't look up. David tried again.

"Killian," he said a bit louder, but Killian was going to town on a door handle that just wouldn't move.

"For Christ's sake you dumb fuck, that isn't going to work," Neal spat out, and Killian slowly turned around. Rage was set deep in his eyes, and his hands tightened on the crowbar. His knuckles were white.

"I'm going to kill you," spat Killian through clenched teeth, and Neal laughed, pushing David over to stand beside Killian.

"Line up boys," Neal said with a laugh, "This is only going to take a second." He said as he cocked the trigger.

"Why?" Killian growled out. "Why can't you just leave us alone."

"She knew my secrets," Neal said plainly.

"But she was here now, with me. You must have known that she just wanted to be free of you," Killian countered, frustration and rage bubbling up in his voice.

Neal tilted his head to the side, "You poor thing. You did care for her. Here's the thing though: she was mine. Not yours. Mine. And I will dispose of my playthings as I see fit. It was pointless for her to run… I was going to find her. Whether or not she wanted me anymore, she still had my secrets and that's unacceptable."

Killian scowled at him, "How did you know we had freezer problems?"

Neal laughed, "Because I caused them. I cut some lines outback, caused the issues, and then just waited for the repair guy to show up. Thank goodness we were almost the same size. Oh, and David, if you are looking for him, he's with the keys. Where you two are also about to find yourselves."

Neal closed one eye for aim, and his finger slowly went to squeeze on the trigger, when a loud metallic _thunk_ rang through the fridge, and Neal slumped to the floor.

Mary Margaret stood behind the limp body of Neal, cast iron skillet in her hand. "Not my family, not today… you son of a bitch," she whispered, before looking up with determination in her eyes.

"Leroy is on the way."


End file.
